Swike's Story
by Maiden of the BH
Summary: Swike, sold into the army of Lord Koron, must learn to adapt and change. Her talents may get her far, but it's her strength of spirit that will guide her actions in the end. Rating for violence.
1. Sold

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter One: Sold**

Swike the rat glared at her father. She would have loved to spit on him or claw his eyes out, but he was on the other side of the room and the paws which held her tensed body were too strong to break away from.

"How could you... What did... Why?" she screamed.

Swike's father wasn't looking at her. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the jewel in his paws which he was turning over and over. "Oh Swike," he said, "there's no need for you to be like this. Really, you should be thanking me. You could go far with your talents."

"Go far? _Go far_? You _sold_ me!" Swike strained forward, but it was no use. She wasn't going to get any closer than this to her father. "I hate you!" she yelled.

Her father looked at her face and then away again. Was that fear that she'd seen in his eyes? Well, he should be scared. If only he knew the things she would do if she could get at him...

"Tut tut tut. That's no way for a daughter to address her father." Swike turned her head quickly to see who had spoken. Standing in the open doorway was a ferret, dressed in the finest clothes she had ever seen on anybeast. He wore cloth of various shades of blue and green, and from his shoulders fell a long cape of a deep forest green. He had on no jewelry, but he was visibly armed with two knives and a sword. "You should apologize," he said calmly.

For a moment, Swike was confused. Apologize? What was he talking about? Upon realizing that he meant for her to apologize to her father though, she grew angrier. "I will not!" she said defiantly. Then, turning to her father again, she said, "You've made a slave of me! I want to kill you!"

"Not a slave," said the ferret. Swike gulped. Was this who she'd been sold to? It must be from the way he was acting. She eyed him nervously.

"He's right, you know," said her father hesitantly. "You're not going to be a slave. Just, he paid good money for you. With your talents, well, he'd have to."

"Oh really?" said the ferret, striding forward with a smirk on his face. "I didn't have to pay for her, you worm. I could have very easily stolen her." He slammed a knife into the table right beside the rat's paws. Swike's father shrank back in fear, whimpering. The ferret laughed, knocking over the small box of jewels and gold. Pieces went rolling in all directions, many of them spilling off the table. Swike's father was petrified, not daring to move to gather up his gold. Still, his eyes quickly scanned the scene. Swike, noticing, was disgusted. She knew exactly what he was doing. He was watching all of the jewels and coins, memorizing where they rolled so that he'd be able to find them all later. Then, an idea occurred to her.

"You're right," she said daringly. "You didn't have to buy me. In fact, you still don't. You could take back all of your gold right now. That lug wouldn't be able to stop you." She watched happily as her father squirmed in his chair, his face a picture of horror.

The ferret stayed still for a moment before pulling his knife from the table and turning to Swike. He stared steadily into her eyes until she had no choice but to look away. "You have spirit," he said. "That's good." He began to walk toward her. "I'm not going to take the money back though. There's much more where that came from. It means nothing to me." He now stood right before her. Swike pulled back, not wishing to be near him. She couldn't get away though. The two beasts holding her in an iron grip were two of her very own brothers. She didn't know where her eldest brother was right now, but she really didn't care.

The ferret leaned his head closer. He seemed to be examining her, or maybe testing her. Swike held her breath, all of a sudden getting the crazy idea that if she breathed on him, he might become angry. She let out a slow breath as he stood up straight again. "Are those your things?" he asked, motioning toward a stuffed satchel on the floor.

"Yes," she said.

The ferret waved three weasels into the room that had been standing outside. "You, carry that," he instructed one of the weasels, indicating the satchel. "And you two, escort her."

Before she could do or say anything, Swike's shoulders were grabbed by the two strong weasels, she was ripped from her brother's hold, and was sped from the room and house. Feeling slightly numb, she made one fleeting look back. It would be the last she ever saw of her home.

* * *

Swike sat in the tent, clutching her satchel to herself, her eyes darting around at the slightest sound or smallest movement. She had been given a short explanation before being shoved into the tent. Including herself, three beasts lived here. Any and all of them were at the beck and call of Lord Koron. That's who she now knew the ferret to be. He was the warlord of a great army, the equal of which did not exist. Beside Lord Koron's tent, this was believed to be the most important in the whole camp. 

She had seen the vixen right away. Naysta was her name. She was a seer who had come stumbling into Lord Koron's camp sometime last season, and due to her predictions, had reserved for herself a place of importance and honor. Swike didn't think much of her. She wore bright, flowy red and yellow cloths and enough jewelry to sink a ship. All of her bracelets and necklaces made so much noise that she wouldn't be able to sneak up on a tree without it knowing.

Her other companion had been hard to spot at first. Raynat the assassin. Finally, she recognized him as the bundle of black cloth in the corner. His large cloak and hood completely covered him, making it impossible to tell what type of beast he was. Since entering the tent, Swike hadn't seen him move or heard him make any noise. He could have been asleep, but she didn't approach him to find out.

Then there was her. She had already heard the whispers of her name and title through the camp on her way to the tent. Swike the rat, spy and master of disguise.

Swike shivered where she sat. She was afraid to move, but the cold was getting to her. Slowly, she opened her satchel and took out her old, tattered blanket. She pulled it tightly around herself, massaging her arms. They hurt! The weasels hadn't been rough with her on the way to the camp, believing that she wouldn't dare try to run away, but her brothers had been merciless. It hadn't been the first time for them to hold her like that though. On countless occasions, two of her brothers had held her while the third, usually the second oldest, beat her up. It had been the bullying of her brothers that had led her to becoming what she was. She had always been small for a rat, and despite all of her efforts, she had never gained much in the way of strength. Stealth and disguise had been right up her alley though. She had spent hours off by herself every day, discovering the uses of various herbs and plants. Playing on her brother's superstitions, the first thing she ever disguised herself as was a ghost. It had been all she could do to not burst out laughing at their terrified screams as she chased them all the way home. She spent seasons practicing her disguises secretly, every once in a while using them to scare or torment her brothers. She became quite good at them, successfully mastering the look of a stoat, mouse, squirrel, and another rat. Then, that fateful day had come.

Swike had tried on the ghost disguise again, it being a long time since she'd used it. She appeared to her brothers, as if out of nowhere. She delighted in the looks of their faces going ashen. To add to her performance, she spoke out in a deep voice which caused the hairs to stand up on her brother's necks. It was a dark and dreary day, and as she spoke, lightning flashed overhead. Her brothers called out in fright and one of them cringed on the ground, asking for her to not harm them. As if on cue, rain began to come down in big, fat drops. At first it startled Swike, but she didn't let it show. Thinking that this could add to her power over her brothers, she glided toward them, claiming to have called the rain. As she got close, one of her brother looked up into her face. He looked confused for a moment, and then recognition dawned on him.

"Swike?" he had yelled.

It was all over then. Swike had never been around anybeast when it had rained when she was in disguise, and therefore had not known that the rain smeared her disguises. She still had bruises from that day. Now, it was less than half a season later, and her father and brothers, knowing of her talent, had sold her off.

"Let me through!" yelled somebeast from outside the tent.

"No entry," barked the guard. "Naysta is Lord Koron's personal seer and will give advice to nobeast else."

"I don't care about her," urged the soldier. "I need to see my sister! I need to see Swike."

Swike perked up her ears. She hadn't been paying attention to the voices before, lost in her thoughts, but at her name, she recognized the voice. It was Swifcut, her oldest brother. Her heart skipped a beat. She had always hoped that he cared for her, but she hadn't believed it. While he had continued to help in her beatings, he hadn't been the one actually throwing the punches in ages. She had been very grateful for this, for, from watching the tumbles that her brothers had, she could see that Swifcut was the strongest. Not only had he not hurt her in a long time though. He had also caught her eye time and time again, smiling. She had never understood why, but by imagining that he at least was on her side, she had never run away.

Swike jumped up from where she sat and ran over to the tent flap.

"Either leave now or I'll kick you back to where you belong," the guard bellowed.

"No," said Swike. "He is my brother."

The guard looked taken aback, but he didn't know yet what Swike was like. He knew from experience that nobeast ever dared upset Naysta or Raynat, so he stood aside. Swifcut followed Swike into the tent.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I joined the army," he showed her the green strip of cloth tied around his left paw. Swike looked down at her own. At least he wore his willingly. Swifcut's face creased with worry. "That's not right what father did," he said.

Swike couldn't bear it any longer. The cruelness of everything that had happened to her that day weighed down on her. With a silent sob, she draped her arms around her brother. At first, he went stiff, but then he held her and let her cry.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered. "I'm here now."


	2. Lord Koron's Tent

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Two: Lord Koron's Tent**

Swike stared up at the roof of the tent, watching the way the sunlight shone through the fabric. She could tell by where the sun was that it was late in the day, but she hadn't been up for long. She had lifted her head to look around earlier and found that she was the only one in here. She could hear some captain yelling out commands far away, but beside that, everything seemed peaceful.

_Grumble, grumble_. Well, everything was peaceful except for her stomach. With a sigh, Swike got up. It was her third day in the camp, and still she hadn't been allowed to leave her tent. Every day, a rat brought food to her, and a privy was located in the back. Upon getting up, Swike saw that the food bearer had already come and gone. Today she would be having stale bread and some sort of soup. At least, she hoped it was soup. Half of the things floating around in it were impossible to identify. Knowing that she wouldn't get anything else though, she dug in. Within a few minutes, it was gone.

With her stomach full of, whatever that had been, she decided to lie back down and continue her schedule of being bored.

"Swike!" said a gruff voice.

Swike stood up quickly and turned toward the tent flap. A ferret with tattoo-covered arms was standing in the opening.

"Lord Koron desires your presence." With that, he left.

It was all very abrupt. For a moment, Swike just stood there, not knowing what to do. Obviously though, she needed to get to the warlord's tent as soon as possible. She grabbed her satchel and sprinted out of the flap.

Lord Koron's tent wasn't hard to find. It was the biggest one in the whole camp, and it was centrally located. Swike made her way toward it, jumping and dodging around vermin of all types. She tripped up a few rats who got in her way, but just kept on running. Finally, she was there. Out of breath, she tried to compose herself. The guards on either side of the tent opening stared forward, their training keeping them from looking at the huffing rat before them. Swike took a deep breath and took her first step into Lord Koron's tent.

Swike blinked her eyes rapidly, adjusting to the darkness inside. A table had been set up in the center of the space, and behind it sat Koron. He stared intently at her for a moment, and then motioned her forward. Swike came forward as quickly as she could while still looking dignified. Koron indicated a chair on her side of the table, so she sat down. She remained poised on the edge of the chair, her eyes riveted on Lord Koron, waiting to see what she would need to do.

"You are a master of disguise, are you not?" he said.

Swike was surprised by this question. Surely Koron knew of her talents or else he would not have wasted gold to have her in his army. She hesitated in answering, but soon learned that this was a bad move. Lord Koron raised his eyebrows at her silence. Swike coughed slightly before blurting out, "Yes, I know many disguises."

"Many? And what would these many disguises be?"

"I can disguise myself as a rat,..."

"Rat?" Lord Koron interjected. "But you are a rat."

Swike gulped. "Yes sir I am, but I meant that I can make myself look like somebeast else so that you wouldn't be able to recognize me."

Lord Koron seemed to be considering this for a moment. Finally, he nodded and motioned for her to continue.

"Ummm, well, I can disguise myself as a rat, stoat, mouse, and squirrel, and I'm fairly good at a weasel, ferret, shrew, and otter." Swike bit her tongue, trying to read Lord Koron's face to determine what he made of her. If he made anything of her which could be perceived on his face, then Swike did not know him well enough yet, for his face looked like it was carved in stone to her.

"Rat," he said suddenly, catching Swike off guard.

"Uh, yes sir? Did you ... want me to do something for you?"

"Disguise yourself as a rat. I need for you to spy on my army for me. You will be living among them as various vermin, but first as a rat. You will report directly to me every night to tell me of what you have heard. If there is mutiny of any kind, then you will come to me immediately. Do you understand?"

Not trusting her voice at the moment, Swike nodded vigorously.

"Good. Now, am I to understand that one of your brothers has joined my army?"

Again, Swike nodded.

"Stay away from him when you're in disguise. I don't care how good you think you are. Your brother knows you and could probably recognize you in and out of disguise."

Swike didn't quite agree with this, thinking of all the times that she had fooled her brothers, but she nodded none the less.

"Are you mute or something?" Koron snapped.

"N-no sir."

"Well, then speak to me when I ask you questions. Now, is that satchel where you keep the things you use for disguises?"

Swike glanced down at her satchel. She nearly nodded, but caught herself just in time. "Yes, everything I need is in it."

Lord Koron pointed toward a back corner of the tent. Much of it was hidden behind curtains. "You will go back there and get in disguise. I want to see you before you leave to go spying."

Seeing that this was her dismissal, Swike stood up and went where she had been directed. She found to her delight that a full length mirror stood propped up against a tent pole. For a moment she wondered how they transported it when they moved camp, but she stopped worrying about it as soon as she got to business. Before long, the ground was crowded with bowls and plates, covered with herbs which she was mixing. While some of the concoctions were settling, Swike rummaged through the bottom of her satchel. She pulled forth some old, dirty garments which would help her to blend in with the army. She stuck two throwing knives into her belt and hid another up her sleeve. From a side pocket, she drew a wad of rolled up cloth which contained a pair of anklets. She smiled as they clanked faintly as she put them on. She had many more pieces of jewelry in her satchel, but due to the cloths which smothered them, they would never give her away the way that Naysta's jewelry did. With her outfit in working order, she turned her attention to her face. After an intensive fifteen minutes, her face had been transformed into that of a stranger. For a finishing touch, she created a very realistic looking tattoo of two crossed bones on the back of her left paw. In a matter of minutes, she had everything gathered back together and packed up. She was ready to present herself to Lord Koron. The only thing she hadn't changed was the green piece of cloth tied around her paw.

Swike came back around the curtain. Lord Koron looked up at her as she entered, and a brief smile crossed his face. "Very good," he said. "I can't recognize you at all." He stood up and approached her, circling all the way around her. Swike stood still. When Lord Koron started to circle around her for the second time though, she started to worry, and decided to speak up.

"W-when would you like me to leave?"

Koron was behind Swike as she said this. She felt a slight shift in the air, but before she realized what that meant, Koron had one of her arms pinned behind her back and a knife at her throat. Swike cried out in alarm, but as the knife pressed into her throat, she quieted down.

"Speak!" Koron said from beside her ear.

Then Swike understood. Whenever she got in disguise, she immediately tried to become whoever she looked like. She had learned to change the way that she walked and moved and had even learned to change her voice.

Hesitantly, and using her natural voice, Swike said, "I am Swike."

Koron loosened his hold on her and spun her around. His eyes flashed in anger. "You didn't tell me you could change your voice! That's an important bit of information, don't you think?"

Swike gulped, but didn't say anything.

"Is there anything else that you can do that you haven't let me know?" Koron demanded.

Swike thought for a while, collecting her thoughts. "Just a few," she said. "I'm not too good with paw-to-paw combat weapons, but I have a good shot with a bow and I'm fairly good with throwing knives. I have three voices that I can do other than my own. I can draw, and I can write letters well, though I don't know how to read. I'm agile, but I'm not as fast as I would want to be. And I ... think that's it."

"Humm, don't know how to read? Naysta can read. She'll teach you. Any good spy can read. Many creatures keep records of their history, and even vermin have been known to write things down from time to time." Koron looked Swike up and down. "So, you're not strong or fast?" he asked, a slight sneer in his voice.

Swike blushed. "I-I'm not very strong, but I make up for that with accuracy. Like I said, I'm good with a bow. And as for speed, if you can sneak up on somebeast and then away again without their knowing, then you don't need to be fast." Swike stared steadfastly at the ground, not wanting to see the look on Koron's face.

"Very well," he said. "Come this way." Swike followed the ferret back toward the corner where she had put her disguise on. He began pushing the tent cloth back and forth until he found what he was after. There was an opening that led outside, though Swike wouldn't have known it was there if Koron hadn't shown it to her. "You will leave this way. Many eyes are constantly on the front entrance of my tent. It would be noticed if you came in here and a different rat left. I don't want anybeast to know that you're who you are. At the end of the day, you will enter this way, and after you have made yourself look normal again, you may leave by the front. You must come here every morning to get in disguise. Nobeast should ever suspect you of spying. They'll simply think that you come here every day to get instructions for when I'm going to have you spy among my enemies. Is that understood?"

"Yes." Swike made as if to leave.

"Wait," said Koron. "Just one more thing. What is your name for today?"

He looked as if he thought he had caught Swike off guard, but he hadn't. She had always thought that beasts who went undercover were foolish if they didn't think of a name first. "I'm Harcut," she said, in a voice not her own.


	3. Harcut

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Three: Harcut**

Swike sat beside a dying fire, brandishing two dice as if she'd been born with them in her paw.

"Come on Harcut, matey, let's see 'ow lucky ya are," said the weasel sitting on the other side of the fire.

Swike flicked the dice in a throw which imitated the way she'd seen other beasts gamble. They bounced on the ground before settling down. A two and a three.

"Hah, not too lucky," said the searat next to her, collecting the dice into his paw. "Aahhgh!" He quickly dropped the dice and stuffed his paw into his mouth. "Wa didja do tha' fo'?" he said around his paw. Swike cleaned her knife off on the ground before stuffing it back in her belt, leaving a red stain in the dirt.

"Ya said we'd ge' two throws." Swike picked up the dice.

"Yah, but y' didn't hav' ta do thart," he complained.

"Oh, be quiet, Blackgut. I barely even nicked ya." Swike tossed the dice again. A one and a two.

"Too bad mate," said the weasel. "Throw 'em o'er 'ere Blacky."

"H'am not touchin' 'em," Blackgut took his paw from his mouth. "You ain't got a bindin' cloth, do ya Scimo?"

"Course not. What would I do wiv it?"

"Ya'd give it ta me. I needs one." Blackgut cradled his paw in the front of his shirt, adding blood to the dirt already covering it.

"Shove it," said Swike, picking up the dice and throwing them across the fire to Scimo. He caught them expertly and began to shake them up in his paw before casting them on the ground before him. A three and a four. Scimo flashed a grin at the two rats.

"I won. Fork it o'er." He held out a paw to them. Swike scowled, but brought forth two copper coins. Scimo snatched them up and then turned to Blackgut. "You rolled too, Blacky. Pay up."

"Not 'less you gets me a bindin' cloth."

"I already told ya. I don't got one. Now giv me mah winins!"

Blackgut, still cradling his paw, set his shoulders in defiance. "No!"

"Why you!" Scimo leapt over the small fire onto Blackgut, who began crying out like a madbeast.

"Gerroff, gerroff me! Owwow, wha'd I do to you? Ow, me paw! You've killed it."

Swike pushed Scimo off Blackgut, hissing at them. "Be quiet! We'll get caught. Do ya want the cap'ns seein' this?"

The two vermin quieted down immediately, staring around to see if they'd attracted attention.

"Yeah, 'Arcut's right Scimo. Don' wanna make too much noise."

Scimo knocked Blackgut on the back of the head. "Oh yeah? You was the one makin' all the noise. An' ya still owe me. Pay up!" The weasel held his paw in Blackgut's face, waving it for emphasis.

Sniffing loudly, Blackgut placed a few coins into Scimo's paw. He stowed them away somewhere and began to jingle the dice around in his paw.

"Up fer another round?" he asked.

"I couldn't, cause me throwin' paw is ruined!" snapped Blackgut, giving Swike a harsh look. Swike grabbed for his bloody paw, ripped off a section of his sleeve, and began scrubbing off the blood forcefully.

"Ow! Stoppit, y' crazy rat! What're y' doin'?" bellowed Blackgut.

"There," said Swike, letting go of his paw. "See. It's only a scratch."

Blackgut looked down at his paw to see that Swike was right. In a whining voice, he said, "Still, y' didn' hav ter do that 'Arcut."

Swike shrugged unconcernedly. She watched Scimo rolling the dice around in his paw for a while, a blank look forming on her face.

"Hey Harcut," said Scimo. Swike met his eyes. "Where're ya from anyway?"

"Aroun'," she said, shrugging. Her eyes flashed in the direction of the center of the camp. "Whatder ya make of Koron?"

Scimo stopped playing with the dice and set them down. Blackgut looked up from the paw he was trying to wrap up with the torn bit of his sleeve. Swike raised her eyebrows at their sudden change in attitude. "Bad?" she asked. Blackgut went shifty-eyed and began licking his lips nervously. Scimo glanced quickly over his shoulder before leaning forward secretively.

"There's somethin' ... odd about 'im. We're not sure what."

"I don' understand."

Blackgut whimpered slightly, earning himself a smart punch by Scimo. "Be quiet!" he spat at the rat. Turning back to Swike, he said, "D' ya know 'ow long we've been 'ere, Harcut?"

"What? Y'mean in this camp?"

"Yeah. Any idea 'ow long?"

Swike let her eyes drift over the camp, surveying the tents. How long had they been there? Her eyes alighted on a tent nearby. A vine was growing beside it and had wrapped itself around a pole. In surprise, Swike realized that the vine had already grown halfway up the pole. Surely it couldn't do that in only half a season. Had they been here longer?

"How long?" she asked.

"Goin' on three seasons. Now, what kinda army is that?" Scimo sat back, crossing his arms.

"Is tha' all?" Swike asked in surprise. "No action and ya think the warlord's odd?"

"He's been plannin' somethin' big. It's suicide!" said Blackgut quickly. Scimo hit him hard in the nose, causing it to bleed profusely.

"Shut up!" said Scimo. "We's not supposed to know, ya idiot!"

"What d'ya know?" said Swike, pushing between them forcefully and then looking from one to the other. Blackgut held both of his paws up to his snout, a bloody mess. Scimo angrily spat on the ground, looking as if he wanted to kill Blackgut.

"O'erheard it," he said, turning to look at Swike. "Why're ya so interested Harcut?"

"Cause I don't got to stick 'round if'n somethin's up."

Blackgut gasped. "Desert?" he asked in alarm.

"Wouldn't be the firs' time," said Swike, shrugging.

Blackgut's eyes got wide. Apparently, the idea of deserting an army wasn't just an everyday thing with him. He looked terrified at the very thought. "'Arcut, mate, y' better not." was all he said.

Swike rolled her eyes. "Don' tell me, I'll get punished if I try an' run away." She sighed loudly. "Already heard tha' one. Lis'n, all ya gots to do is pretend t'go out scoutin'. Then ya just leave. Nothin' to it."

Blackgut continued to stare at her, openmouthed. Scimo began shaking his head. "You've walked into th' wrong camp, Harcut. Maybe ya haven't seen 'im yet, but there's this assassin, name o' Raynat. 'E could track a moth o'er a mountain. 'E jus' sneaks up outa nowhere an' takes ya out. Naw, you're stuck wiv us, mate."


	4. Dinner With the Warlord

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Four: Dinner With the Warlord**

Swike didn't feel like she was going to get much more out of Blackgut or Scimo. Claiming that she was beginning to feel lucky, she distracted at least Scimo into another dice game. Two weasels who were walking by joined in, and again, Swike lost. Blackgut, every once in a while glancing at Swike or Scimo, retreated to the fireside and began to look really interested in it. Swike watched him out of the corner of her eye. He kept poking the fire and adding tinder. She could tell that he hadn't been the one to start the fire, for he was slowly covering the meager flames instead of feeding them. In no time, their fire would be nothing more than ash. At least he wasn't making a big deal about his injuries any more.

Swike gazed up at the sky. It was beginning to darken. Soon, she'd need to get back to Koron's tent. A quarter moon hung in the sky already. A light breeze swept through the camp, ruffling her fur, causing her to shiver.

"Another roun', Harcut?" asked Scimo.

Swike held her paws up in defeat. "No, I don't stan' a chance."

As the three weasels began rolling dice again, Swike let her mind wander. She had never really liked her brothers or her father before because of the way they treated her, but these beasts treated her like equals. She even thought that Blackgut looked up to her with some sort of awe. Swike cleared her head quickly. _They don't like me_, she thought firmly, _They like Harcut_.

Swike stretched out on the ground, relaxing her muscles and listening to the squabbling of vermin. She heard somebeast walk by and pause. Turning her head to see who it was, she saw a ferret, standing with his chest puffed out as if he thought very well of himself. He was watching the dice game. Around his left paw, a blue piece of cloth dangled. Swike sat up quickly. He was a captain. There was no need for alarm though. She wasn't doing anything wrong. None of them were. Had this captain walked by earlier when Scimo and Blackgut were fighting, then they may have gotten in trouble, but he couldn't pin anything on them right now.

After watching the game for awhile, the ferret sniffed and walked off to the next campfire. Everybeast relaxed visibly. Swike looked up at the sky again. How could time have passed by so quickly? The sun had set! Swike felt like jumping up and running to Lord Koron's tent, but that wasn't the type of thing Harcut would do. With a huge sigh, she stretched and stood up.

"Goin' somewheres?" Scimo asked.

"Guard duty. Firs' shift," Swike said.

Scimo gave her a quizzical look, but he didn't say anything. Swike left without a backward glance, heading as if her post were on the opposite side of the camp. After she was sure that she was out of sight of Scimo and Blackgut's fire, she meandered her way toward the back of Lord Koron's tent.

_Now, where was that opening?_ she thought to herself, pushing on the fabric. _It was around here somewhere_. She was silently thankful for the dense brush and trees which shielded her from view, but she had to wonder, didn't the vermin think it odd that their warlord's tent was backed up against such brush? Logically, somebeast bent on killing him could hide in all of this and then use a knife or sword to slash their way inside. Swike let these thoughts drop from her mind, realizing that she really didn't know anything about Koron or the way in which his mind worked. _Maybe I should spy on him a bit, for my own knowledge_, she thought, wishing that she had the courage to speak these words aloud. She always found it much easier to follow through with something she was worried about doing if she could vocalize it first. Her paw alighted on a break in the tent back. With an inward sigh, she stepped inside.

Lord Koron was standing right there, his eyes boring into hers.

"What have you found out?" he barked sternly.

Swike collected her breath. She hadn't been expecting having to report the second upon entering the tent. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. She had nearly spoken like Harcut. "Umm, they're ... really restless."

Koron nodded. He looked like he'd been expecting this. "Did you find out anything else?" he asked.

Swike thought of what she had almost found out. Scimo and Blackgut had overheard ... something. She could tell Koron this right now. Like as not, the two of them would be made an example of in front of the whole camp. Swike looked Koron in the eye. "I haven't been among them very long. It's hard to come up with much of anything. I can't tell you any more."

Koron held her eye. Swike knew she was going to break; it was killing her just to hold his gaze. She'd never had any trouble lying to her father and he'd never known, but surely Koron could spot such things. He was a warlord after all. He dealt with vermin of all kinds. If he couldn't recognize a lie when he saw one, he'd be in a bad position. Finally, Swike had no choice. She wrenched her eyes away from his, staring dumbly at the ground. _I'm done for_, she thought, waiting for a knife at her throat.

Lord Koron turned quickly and walked back around the curtain, into the main area of his dwelling. "Come when you look like yourself again," he called out curtly.

Swike couldn't believe it. Had she fooled him? Was she a good liar? If she was, it was news to her. With a lump forming in her throat, she hurriedly changed clothes and washed off her face. When she was done, she picked up her satchel which had remained in Lord Koron's tent while she was spying. Her eyes flashed toward the tent wall. Escape lay just on the other side. She could leave now. She'd have Raynat to worry about later, but she had learned a thing or two about camouflage as she learned her disguises. Did she know enough? Would she be able to fool him? Swike gulped, standing still and undecided. Her thoughts wandered, finally resting on her brother. Swifcut was here. She wouldn't leave. Putting on an air of confidence, she stepped out into the main tent area.

"Swike!" said Koron, sounding pleased. "Come over here. You've had a long day, I'm sure. Have some wine." Swike approached him. He was sitting at the same table as before, but now dinner was set out on it. Swike sat down and took the glass offered to her. Red wine sloshed around inside of it. Poisoned? Swike looked up at Lord Koron. He was already drinking his own wine, but it seemed like he smiled as he did.

"I'm not thirsty," said Swike, setting the glass down.

Koron's eyes narrowed. He set down his own glass. "I didn't ask you if you were thirsty. Usually when I offer wine to somebeast, they see how much of a privilege it is and drink without question. Do you not trust me, Swike? Did you hear something today which has caused you to doubt?" He rose an eyebrow, challenging her to answer in an affirmative.

"Your army is restless. Nothing more. They desire action while you hold them in this camp, only allowing them to train." Swike wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Well, if that is all, then we should drink to it. I have had much worse problems in the past. This is nothing." Koron picked up his glass again, raising it as if in a toast. Feeling as if she were acting against her will, Swike did likewise. When Koron tipped back his head to drink, Swike brought her own glass to her lips. The smell of the wine filled her nostrils. Wine like this was expensive and she hadn't had much experience with it, but the smell was instantly recognizable. If anything was in this wine, then it had no scent. Wondering to herself what she was doing, Swike drank.

Nothing happened. Swike didn't clutch at her throat or drop down dead or anything at all dramatic. Instantly, she felt foolish for expecting something. Koron offered her food next. It was of much better quality than anything else she'd had since she'd been in the camp, and she accepted it right away. She was surprised to realize that she was hungry and had been for a long time. Lord Koron offered her fish, stew, and even fresh fruits and vegetables. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had such good food. Probably some time when she'd disguised herself as a goodbeast and been invited to eat with them.

As they ate, Koron asked her questions about the food and how she liked her accommodations. Swike answered these questions carefully, not wanting to complain about anything. As the food began to run out, a weasel came in bearing dessert. Swike smiled at him as he set a plate down in front of her. She had just begun to feel giddy. When Koron told her to eat more, she did so, but she didn't know what she was eating anymore. Her head started to feel odd, like it wasn't attached to her neck correctly. It lolled from side to side and she couldn't keep it straight. She giggled at herself for not being able to do something as simple as hold her head still. Her eyelids began to droop and a silly grin formed on her face. Koron said something, but she couldn't tell what he'd said.

"Huh?" she asked. Then she laughed, realizing that 'huh' wasn't a very good thing to say to a warlord.

"What happened today?" he urged again.

She understood him this time. "Oh," she said. "Well, Scigut and Blackmo, they live 'ere." she began giggling some more. "But they, haha, they have a fire." Swike closed her eyes and let her head fall backwards. "And they ... started fightin', but nobeast saw, so it's alrigh'." Swike opened her eyes. "Ooh, I'm looking up!" She began laughing harder.

"What did they say?" asked Koron, leaning forward.

"Say? Oh, I don' know. Somethin' 'bout noise an' another thin' 'bout ... I don' remember."

"Try to remember!"

"It was ... something. I think ... no." Swike squinted at Koron. He looked out of proportion and was swaying in her vision. "Somethin' about ... hearin'. Yeah, that's it!"

"Noise and hearing?" asked Koron.

Swike nodded sloppily. Her eyes began to blink rapidly. "It's bright in 'ere," she complained.

Lord Koron sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You can leave now," he said.

Swike started to stand but fell back into her chair. She looked down at herself curiously and began laughing again. "I'm sitting agin!"

Koron passed her a cup. "Drink this," he said.

Swike held the cup limply in her paw. She nearly dropped it, but managed to get it to her lips and down her throat. She let the cup fall and began gagging, her eyes watering. "What's ..." she managed to get out.

"It tastes bad but it'll make you feel better. Now get out of my tent!" Koron sounded like he was getting mad. Swike stood up and make as if to leave. The next thing she knew, she was sprawled out on the ground. She had tripped over her satchel. Scrambling back up, she grabbed her satchel and stumbled out the front of the tent.


	5. Lessons

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Five: Lessons**

Swike walked carefully away from the tent. Her vision swam before her eyes and the light from the torches around the camp were pinpoints of pain in her sight. She still felt unsure of her feet, but her mind was quickly beginning to clear. A knot formed in her stomach. She wasn't sure that she could remember everything that had happened in Koron's tent, but what she could remember unsettled her. She'd been drugged. She didn't know whether it was in the wine or the food or both, but she knew that partaking of that meal had not been a wise decision. _I need to learn how to fake that I'm drinking and eating_, she thought miserably. Swike tripped over a rock and nearly fell over, but somebeast caught her. She was shocked at first because she hadn't known that anybeast was with her. Looking up, her eyes met a familiar face.

"Watch where you're goin' Swike. Did you have a long day?" It was Swifcut.

Swike didn't say anything, not trusting herself to speak. She felt horrible at the moment, sick to her stomach. Swifcut continued talking, but she barely heard him.

"Talk around camp said you were with Lord Koron today. Were you making plans? Don't worry, you can tell me everything."

Swike didn't feel like she could tell him anything at the moment. Her head was spinning. She felt nauseous. All of a sudden, she stopped moving, leaned over, and threw up right in the middle of the path.

"Whoa," said Swifcut, grabbing her arm as she swayed in place. He backed her up off the path, and taking her other arm, lowered her into a sitting position. He stared intently into her face. Even in the faint light, he seemed to find what he was looking for in her eyes. "You were drugged!" he exclaimed. "Tell me what happened," he urged.

Swike tried feebly to pull her paws away from him, but he held on tight. She didn't want to tell him what happened. She felt so foolish to have fallen for such a stupid trick. Plus, she wasn't sure if she wanted him knowing that she was spying on the army. She bit her lip, still tasting the bile on her tongue. Her head nodded forward a bit. Swifcut shook her.

"Don't pass out," he said. "Did you eat or drink anything when you were in that tent?"

Swike nodded and immediately wished that she hadn't. She pulled her paws away from Swifcut and this time he let her. With a groan, she held her head in her paws, rocking slowly back and forth.

"What were you thinking Swike? He could have killed you!"

Swike thought this very unlikely, but she didn't say so. She wouldn't put it past Koron to poison her, but surely he would wait before making such a drastic decision. At least, she hoped so. If he were one of those vermin who always thought somebeast was out to get him, then he could easily break at the slightest doubt of loyalty. Swifcut touched her arm and she looked up at him.

"It's wearing off, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Swifcut looked like he was actually concerned for her. In that moment, Swike almost spilt everything she knew. This was the only soul in the world who cared if she lived or died when she'd thought for so long that nobeast cared. She barely stopped herself from giving away valuable information. Swifcut took her paws in his and helped her to her feet, telling her he'd walk her to her tent. He stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes going wide.

"What's this?" he asked in an accusatory tone, thrusting Swike's left paw in her face. Swike couldn't see in the bad lighting what he was talking about, but she didn't need to. Feeling like even more of a fool than she already did, she realized that she hadn't successfully taken off her disguise. On the back of her left paw, there was a very realistic tattoo of two crossed bones. It was Harcut's tattoo. At first, Swike didn't know what to do or say, but then she made her decision. She would lie to Swifcut.

"He made me prove I could do the disguises I claimed I could. I must have forgotten to remove that." Swike leaned against her brother as he led her along. Her tent appeared out of the night before them. "Thanks," Swike said, seeing her home. She made as if to enter, but Swifcut stopped her.

"Wait Swike. I ... wanted to ask you a favor."

Swike turned to face him.

"Umm, you're going to be spending a lot of time with Lord Koron, right?"

"I think so."

"Well, could you put in a few good words for me? You know, telling him about my leadership skills and my talent with weapons and my strength? It's almost impossible to stand out around here and move up in the rankings. I want to be a captain."

Swike stared at him for a second, not sure of what to say to that. Finally, she nodded. Her head throbbed a bit at the action. Turning from her brother again, she walked into the tent.

Swike had intended to lie down and fall right to sleep, but she didn't get the chance. Standing before her was Naysta, jingling and smiling brightly.

"You're back!"

Swike groaned and tried to get around her and to her nest of blankets in the corner.

"You were with Lord Koron today," said Naysta.

"So?" said Swike irritably. "I'm sure you get to spend tons of time with him."

Naysta shook her head. "Not what I meant. I was with Lord Koron too."

Swike eyed her warily. If she had been in the tent, then surely she knew that Swike had been spying. "What are you getting at?"

"Lord Koron told me you couldn't read. I'm supposed to teach you. Now, from what I understand, you'll be busy every day, so you'll get your lessons at night."

"You're kidding, right?" Swike was exhausted. She thought she might be having some lasting effects from whatever Koron had given her. Plus, she didn't think Naysta was telling her everything she knew. _Busy every day_, Swike thought. _What does she mean by that? Surely she knows and just doesn't want me to know she knows._ Swike dropped these thoughts. They were beginning to give her a headache, and she could tell from the way that Naysta continued to block her way that she wasn't going to get to bed until she'd had this stupid little lesson. It wouldn't be a good idea for her to be consumed with a preventable headache in the middle of a reading lesson. "All right," she said. "Just let me put my things down."

Naysta stepped aside and Swike retreated into her own corner. She set down her satchel and quickly began pulling things out of it.

"What are you doing?" asked Naysta.

"I have to clean off a few things," Swike lied. With her back to Naysta and her shoulders hunched over to hide her actions, she quickly began to scrub at the fake tattoo on her paw. In no time, it was gone. Using a rag, she dried off her paws and the bowl she'd been using. Setting the bowl aside, she turned back to Naysta. The fox had set up a low table with a lamp in the center. She sat at it, staring intently at Swike. It gave Swike the creeps to look at her in the lamplight, all aglitter with her jewelry, light dancing in her eyes.

"All done?" Naysta asked.

"Sure," said Swike, coming over. She sat down at the table, examining the objects on it. There were papers, some of them with writing on them, but most of them blank. Near the center of the table there was an inkwell with two feathers lying beside it.

"Good," said Naysta. "Reading and writing isn't the easiest thing to learn how to do, but you're smart, so you should catch on. First, we'll start with the basics: writing and recognizing letters."

"I can write," said Swike.

Naysta raised an eyebrow. "You can write but not read? How could that be?"

"Well, I never know what I'm writing or even if I put the right letters together, but I can write all of the letters."

Naysta quickly shoved some parchment in Swike's direction. "Prove it."

Swike picked up a quill, dipped it in the ink, and wrote on the paper. She felt smothered by Naysta who was hovering almost directly over her writing, but Swike kept writing until she thought that she might have written all of the letters that existed. As she set down her quill, Naysta snatched up her paper and brought it close to her face. Swike didn't see the purpose in that, since Naysta had already seen everything she'd written, but she remained quiet, watching the fox. After a while, Naysta set the paper back down.

"Very good," she said. "You've obviously seen writing before. Many of your groupings of letters form words or else common misspellings of words. I'm impressed. Every word here contains at least one vowel. We'll learn about the vowels tonight."

Naysta held out Swike's writing to her and began to write five letters on another piece of paper. Swike glanced over her work, trying to pick out which ones were the vowels before Naysta showed her. As always though, the letters were a jumble of symbols which she couldn't understand. The paper before her simply said:

_Make yic tel ressts oat in lemb best dyu jughbinto a quik hop sag vents slying and to._

"Here we go," said Naysta, showing her a paper on which was written in a scratchy print: _a e i o u_

* * *

And so, Swike had her first ever reading lesson. The next day and the following days followed much of the same pattern. She'd go to Koron's tent in the morning, get into disguise, sneak out, spy, come back to the tent, report, get out of disguise, go back to her tent, and have a reading lesson. She was extremely pleased to not be presented with a meal in Lord Koron's tent again, though she figured that the reason for this was that she no longer lied to him. She wasn't pleased though, that Lord Koron made her dress up in a different disguise every day. Throughout all of her experiences, her mind kept reverting back to that first day when she'd been Harcut. In her new disguises, she couldn't just walk up to Scimo and Blackgut and engage them in conversation. She'd have to introduce herself again, and they might or might not trust this different disguise in the way that they had confided in Harcut. Something about that day continued to upset Swike. That rat and weasel had overheard something important which no other beast that she met seemed to know about. As the days passed, she didn't feel as if she were coming to understand Koron any better, but Scimo and Blackgut knew something about Koron that she had an intense desire to know as well. What was it about him that scared the army? Nothing had impressed Swike yet. Sure, she was wary around him. She'd heard his name whispered for as long as she could remember, but most never spoke of what he did to earn such an elevated status. His army had never lost a battle. They had ransacked village after village of goodbeasts and vermin alike, but that's all anybeast seemed to know or seemed willing to say aloud. 

Swike was beginning to lose hope in ever knowing the answers to her questions. Her reading lessons were progressing at an alarmingly fast rate. Even Naysta was amazed at her progress.

And then, one day, her wish came true. Swike entered Lord Koron's tent. Without looking up at her, he said, "Do that disguise you did on your first day. The rat. You did a very good job of that. Make sure you don't mess anything up. You should stay around the same area of camp as you were then so as not to attract too much attention by being out of place." He then waved her away, his eyes intent on what looked like a map.

With her heart in her throat, Swike became Harcut again. Maybe today was the day. She'd find out at last. Slipping out the back of Koron's tent, she went in search of Scimo and Blackgut.


	6. Plans and Memories

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Six: Plans and Memories**

Swike didn't have to look long to find Blackgut. She approached the fire that they had sat around, and there he was, looking into the cold ashes. As Swike neared the dead fire, Blackgut looked up at her.

"'Arcut!" he exclaimed, his eyes going wide. "We thought y' wer dead!"

Swike grinned. "Ya worri too much, Blackgut." Blackgut moved one of his paws in invitation for her to sit down, and she found herself staring at it. Why hadn't she noticed it was heavily bandaged? In fact, both of his paws were covered in bandages, making it nearly impossible for him to hold anything. Sitting down, Swike posed her question. "Wha' happened to ya?"

Blackgut looked down at his paws glumly. His lip quivered as if he were about to cry. "I got burned bad. Scimo go' mad at me, an' 'e pushed me in. Put out me paws ta stop th' fall an' they went inta th' fire."

Swike shook her head in mock concern. She didn't really believe that Blackgut's injuries were as bad as he made them out to be, but she wouldn't put it past Scimo to push him into the fire. At Blackgut's mention of Scimo, she began to look around for the weasel. "Where's Scimo?"

"Oh, 'im? 'E's at drills. I don' 'ave ta go cause h'am injured." Blackgut looked at Swike with interest. "Why ain't you at drills, 'Arcut?"

"I'm in a differen' unit then ya. Drills jus' got o'er. Thought I'd pay ya a visit seein' as ya were so nice ta me, bein' new an' all."

"Hah, Scimo waren't nice ta y'. 'E took all yore money."

"I should've known better. Not too good at gamblin'." Swike took out some pieces of cheese that she'd stolen from beside a vacant fire on her way over. "Ya 'ungry Blackgut?"

"Yeah! They don' feed y' much when yer injured. 'Ow's I surposed ta ge' better?" He put out both of his paws, and Swike let him grab at some of her cheese. It had been sitting out for awhile, but it still looked alright. Swike bit her tongue to keep from laughing as Blackgut struggled to eat the hard cheese and tensed his arms to keep from dropping it since his paws were no more than balls of bound cloth.

Swike had been waiting for this day for too long. It had been two full weeks since she'd seen Blackgut or Scimo. How could she work the conversation over to Lord Koron and extract the information of what the searat and weasel had overheard? She stared at Blackgut eat, grappling with her thoughts to no end. She'd planned things to say, but now most of them seemed too blunt or would appear too suspicious. Blackgut stopped eating suddenly, noticing Swike's stare.

"Wha'?" he asked. He took the cheese away from his mouth. "I carn't pay y' fo' this."

Swike's eyes twinkled. She knew what to do. "O, yes ya' can." Swike raised her paw quickly to stop Blackgut's gush of complaints and excuses. "Lis'n, you'n Scimo know somethin' 'bout Koron. I wanna know. Ya tell me an' there's more where tha' came from." she indicated the cheese Blackgut still clumsily held.

Blackgut's jaw dropped. He was speechless for many moments. Swike let anger spread across her face. Quickly, she took a hold of Blackgut's jaw with one paw and the top of his head with another, slamming her paws up and down on his head as forcefully as she could. As a result, Blackgut's mouth closed with a crack and a cry issued from his throat.

"Don' giv me tha' look! I gets ya vittles an' all ya do is open yore mouth an' stare at me like an idiot." Swike snapped. "Ya know somethin' an' I think I've been nice 'nough ta know too. Now, are ya gonna tell me or no'?"

With his head still a prisoner of Swike's paws, Blackgut was barely able to nod. Swike let go of him. Quickly, Blackgut opened his mouth and tried to stuff his right paw into it. The cheese lay forgotten on the ground.

"Well?" Swike asked, waiting for him to say something. Blackgut took his paw away from his mouth, the bandages now covered in saliva and blood. He had bitten his tongue. "Get on wiv it!"

Blackgut's eyes started to water, but he began speaking none the less. "Me'n Scimo was gettin' tired of waitin, wanted ta fight like ol' times. Thought Koron was losin' 'is touch. Scimo, 'e made me go wiv 'im ta talk ta Lor' Koron. I didn' wanna go. Guard said we couldn' go in thur, so I's like, let's jus go, but Scimo, 'e wanted ta talk to Lor' Koron still. Said we could sneak in. Went inta the brush be'ind the tent. We heard them talkin', so we list'ned. They was makin' plans, Koron and that Naysta vixin. An', an', they was crazy plans!"

Blackgut had begun scooting backward, looking nervously from side to side. All of a sudden, Swike realized he was going to make a run for it. So quick that she nearly surprised herself, Swike leapt over the remains of the fire and landed on Blackgut. She slapped a paw over his mouth so that he wouldn't start screaming and alert a nearby captain to the fact that a fight was going on. The last thing she needed was for somebeast to pull her and Blackgut apart, each of them getting in trouble. She'd probably never be able to use this disguise again if that happened.

"Blackgut," she whispered, "Now, we could make this easy or 'ard, you pick. All I wanna know is wha' Koron's up to. I know some vermin who're willin' ta stan' up ta 'im, but we need ta know what's goin' on. Are ya gonna tell me?"

Blackgut nodded vigorously, and Swike slowly got off of him, still alert to his body language, just in case he made a sudden move. Blackgut opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Swike gave him the time he needed. Finally, Blackgut began talking again, though this time in a harsh whisper. Swike leaned forward to hear.

"'E's buildin' up the army. Needs it ta be big fo' 'is next move. Sou'west o' 'ere, there's a place," Blackgut shivered, "hor'ible place. Ghosts o' vermin haunt it, takin' down anybeast who tries ta do wha' they couldn'. Koron wants ta take it o'er. Naysta said 'e could, said she'd seen 'im doin' it in the future. All 'e needed was a spy an' a bigger army an' 'e'd win. So, 'e's gonna take us all ta tha' place," Blackgut began whimpering, "I don' wanna die 'Arcut!"

Swike had been trying to understand Blackgut's babbling. He was scared, that was for sure, but what was he scared of?

"I don' understand, Blackgut. Wha' place? What's Koron need a spy an' big army fo'?"

Blackgut closed his eyes tightly. His body was rigid. Finally, almost as if it were killing him to do so, he answered Swike's question. "Redwall."

Swike's stomach plummeted. If she had been standing up she probably would have fallen over. _Redwall?_ Was Lord Koron _out of his mind_? How many vermin armies and hoards had attacked that place and failed? There was no way to count how many. Swike wanted nothing more in that moment than to curl up in a ball and shake. It took all of her control to stay in character. Harcut would take this news just like any other vermin (very bad) but she wouldn't let herself look weak. Taking a few quick breaths, Swike composed herself. Blackgut's eyes were still pressed shut, but he'd probably open them any second.

"Are ya sure?" Swike managed to ask.

Blackgut opened his eyes slowly. "Yes. 'Eard 'im loud an' clear. We're goin' ta Redwall, 'Arcut. Tha' place is haunted. We don' stand a chance."

Swike shook her head. She had never been one to believe in superstitions. She had always wanted to believe that Redwall was a superstition; just a scary story told to children to make them go to bed at night. She couldn't remember how many times her father had threatened to take her to Redwall, tie her up, and leave her for the vicious beasts who dwelled in it, or, if night fell, for the ghosts of the many vermin who had died trying to conquer it. As she lost her belief in ghosts, Swike had also lost her belief in the existence of Redwall. One day, while playing with a mousemaid though, she had heard the girls' parents talking about making a trip to Redwall. She had never visited that mouse family again and had had many nightmares about a redstone building; a real place.

"This is bigger then I thought, Blackgut. We 'ave ta stop 'im. Who does 'e think 'e is? Nobeast attacks Redwall an' lives ta tell 'bout it." Swike bit her tongue, thinking. "I need ta know more 'bout 'im, though. What's 'is past? What's 'e done? How can we stop 'im?"

Blackgut seemed to calm down a bit. Now they were talking about the past, not the future. Still, he glanced around nervously. Tents and campfires extended in all directions, many vermin mulling around them. Blackgut looked back at Swike. "Koron's the best thur is. 'E's not been chall'nged afore. Thur's nothin' y' can do, 'Arcut."

Swike sighed. "Why does everybeast talk like that? I asked ya, what's 'e done? Don' ya got an answer? What's the big secret? I know 'e's the best. Why d'ya think I joined the army? But, where's the proof 'e's the best?" Swike looked Blackgut up and down with interest. "How long ya been in th' army?"

Blackgut scrunched up his eyes in concentration. "Ah ... think ... five seasons."

Swike nodded. "Been in this camp three seasons and fightin' two seasons befo'. What was i' like?"

"I' was tough, but nobeast could stop us." Blackgut's eyes started to glaze over in reminiscence. Swike wasn't sure if the memories were pleasant or frightening to him, but she didn't really care, just so long as he answered. "We attacked some peaceful creatures. Koron never leaves anybeast 'live. Thart's why we don' have no slaves. An' Koron never settles down neither. At least, that's wha' they told me'n Scimo when we came. We thought we'd al'ays be fightin' and warin,' but then 'e stopped."

Blackgut stopped talking. Swike waited for a while, thinking he would start up again. When he didn't, she got his attention with another question. "Never leaves anybeast alive? So, 'e jus' slaughters 'em? That's not real original."

Blackgut had begun shaking his head vigorously. "No, it's worse'n that 'Arcut. I could explain." He looked as if he didn't want to explain, but Swike nodded. "Las' thing we did afore settlin' this camp was a village not far 'way. Surrounded it. Stayed thur fo' a long time. Starved an' smoked 'em out. Kept 'em up at night wiv noise too. Finally, they came out. We took the dibbins. Hung 'em upside down in trees. Rounded up the othur beasts, made 'em watch. Wiv all the creatures watchin' we broke the dibbins' paw bones. Didn' stop fo' nothin'. Whipped 'em and beat 'em. Couldn' even tell what type o' creature they were when we were done. Did the older beasts th' same way. Burned a few of 'em. Left the place in ruins."

Swike stared at Blackgut, at a loss for words. This army was full of ruthless killers, many of them very skilled at their specific weapon, but Koron didn't act like any other warlord in his place might. Sure, they won all of their battles, but they didn't only destroy other armies. They destroyed lives. For a moment, Swike almost felt as if she could see the creatures of that village, begging for their children to either be let go or killed quickly. It hadn't happened that way for them. It wouldn't happen that way for the next victim, once the army got moving and killing again. Swike had heard many tales of torture in her life, but Blackgut spoke of the army's last act as if it were almost nothing. It was just a day's work.

_What am I doing here?_ Swike thought. _I can't belong to an army like this. I never wanted to belong to any army. But I'll never get away. Raynat would catch me._

"'Arcut."

"What?" Swike asked.

"Y' gonna try anythin'?"

"What are ya talkin' 'bout, Blackgut?"

"Y' said y' knew othur vermin. I don' know. We couldn' stop th' army from goin' ta Redwall wiv Koron leadin' it."

Swike shook her head, standing up suddenly. "I'll try somethin', Blackgut. Don' tell nobeast 'bout this. We'll keep it a secret."


	7. A Change of Pace

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Seven: A Change of Pace**

Swike meandered around campfires, ignoring anybeast and everybeast. She was trying to digest everything she'd just learned. They were going to Redwall. They were going to ruin the place and its inhabitants. Despite her fear of Redwall, she doubted they'd stand a chance against Lord Koron. _He needs a spy and big army_, she thought. _He needs a spy and big army._ She shook her head. _And he has both._

"Hello Swike."

Swike's eyes went wide as she spun around. She had wandered over to an abandoned campfire, and the speaker hadn't spoken loudly, so she wouldn't be found out, but she was really shocked that anybeast could recognize her anyway. Standing a few steps from her was Naysta.

Swike blinked, then looked down at herself. She was unmistakably Harcut.

"How can you tell…"

"That you're who you are?"

Swike nodded.

"I can _See_, honey. To me, there's no disguise." said Naysta with a large smile.

Swike wanted to laugh, but this really wasn't funny. It went against her very beliefs. She had always discounted superstitions and the authority of seers, and yet, this seer had been able to recognize her in a disguise. In a final effort to make sense of the world, Swike convinced herself that Naysta was acting. There was either a hiding place where Naysta could watch Swike get in disguise in Koron's tent or else Koron had told Naysta what Swike's disguises looked like. Putting on a guise of confidence, Swike sat down and began to rouse life in the fire which still had a flickering flame in it.

"You shouldn't be talking to me. You'll give me away."

"Oh, nobeast will even know I was here." Naysta settled herself noisily on the opposite side of the fire. Swike snorted in disbelief and shot a quick glance around at neighboring fires. Sure enough, many eyes were set in their direction. Naysta was easily recognizable as Koron's seer. Everybeast always knew when she was around.

"I'll never be able to use this disguise again. I'll get too many questions about how I know you."

Naysta shook her head. "You worry too much. This is nothing. Nobeast will care about us or what we're doing."

"And why is that? Here I am, a lowly rat conversing with Naysta the seer."

"Why is that? Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"What all of the commotion is about."

Swike looked back at the surrounding campfires. While many vermin continued to look in her direction, she noticed that most of them were moving around, quickly gathering and binding things together. Their actions were unmistakably those of a camp packing up.

"We're moving camp?" Swike asked in surprise.

Naysta nodded. "Tomorrow. If you're done with that disguise today, then change into something else. Tonight, you'll need to be at the assigning of a new captain. Everybeast in camp will be there. Get into something you'll be comfortable in around the entire camp."

Swike stood up quickly. "Sounds good, but I didn't know I could take orders from you."

"You're not. Koron sent me to tell you."

At that, Swike hurriedly bid Naysta good day and quickly made her way back to Koron's tent, planning her disguise as she went. _The disguise I did two days ago. It'll work perfectly._

* * *

Swike entered the tent through the back. After two weeks, she'd learned where to find it every time and no longer had to search for it. Since it wasn't night yet, she had expected to catch Lord Koron off guard, but there was where she was wrong. As soon as she entered the tent, he came back to where she always changed. 

"I would have expected you sooner. Was it you or Naysta who stalled?"

"I-I don't know. Naysta I think."

"Well hurry and change your disguise. Something not worthy of captainship." As Koron turned to leave her, a new thought occurred to her and, bracing herself, she opened her mouth.

"Lord."

Koron turned back to her, his cape flying about his frame, a surprised look on his face. "Yes?"

"If … if everybeast is supposed to be there, then why am I not going to be there as myself?" Swike gulped. _Now I'm done for. I knew I shouldn't have spoken without his leave._

Lord Koron stared deeply into Swike's eyes. As in past times, Swike couldn't hold the ferret's gaze. She looked down. Time passed, the seconds seeming to stretch into minutes. Swike looked back up at Koron. He was grinning. "You are a spy," he said finally. "What need do you have to be present at the appointing of a captain?"

He was gone so fast Swike didn't notice at first. Finding herself alone, she began to set out her supplies and changed her disguise. _I don't think I'll ever understand him_, she thought.

* * *

Swike hung around at the back of the crowd, looking around for a friend. From where she stood, she could see a small group of weasels that she knew in another disguise, but they wouldn't recognize Tyn the stoat. Just as she was thinking she wouldn't find anybeast, she felt a paw pound her on the back. 

"Nice to see you Tyn!"

"You too Riss." Swike gave the tall rat a wide grin. Riss belonged to a regimen of archers in the army. They usually provided the first attack on enemy forces and were expected to keep a constant flow of arrows coming throughout battle. There were many fine archers in other units, but they were expected to do more than just shoot.

"What do you think of what's happening?" Swike asked, indicating the crowd.

Riss shrugged. "Don't care. Doesn't effect me any. I only have to answer to Captain Tampoe. If you joined us, you'd be the same way."

Swike shook her head. After showing off her archer abilities two days ago, nearly everybeast in the special archer regimen had been falling over themselves to have Swike join them. Tyn was the only disguise that Swike had done and allowed herself to indulge in her own personal talent. It would look too suspicious if there was a new, good archer showing up and disappearing every day. "I want to do more than just shoot arrows. I told you that already." Really, Swike would have loved to stand beside Riss and the other archers in the heat of battle, but that option was not open to her. She was Swike the spy and that's all she could be.

Riss looked visibly disappointed. "Have it your way, but just know that you're welcome if you change your mind. Vermin alive!" Riss whistled. "The way you brandish that bow! We could use somebeast like you."

Riss probably would have spoken more and tried yet again to change Swike's mind, but a loud voice bellowed from the other side of the crowd.

"Thur are foive beasts who'll be competin fo' th' new cap'n! 'Ey don' know who 'ey be. I's gonna call out th' names, an' 'ey come for'ard."

The crowd quieted down in expectancy.

"Come forth: Trisor! Spirtz! Nickdirt! Swifcut! Lucky!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, boos, and general ruckus noise. Swike had stood up straighter as she heard her brother's name being called. She remembered her first day of spying when he had walked her back to her tent and asked her to put in a few good words for him. She hadn't seen him since, and she hadn't put in a single word for him, good or bad. She had always been too afraid of what Koron would think if she constantly praised her brother, so she simply remained silent.

"You know one of them?" Riss asked.

Swike felt like hitting herself. Why had she moved at all? Could she really get away with knowing one of the candidates for captaincy? Racking her brain, she decided she could.

"Swifcut's in my unit," she said. "Do you think we could move closer? Now I'm interested."

"Sure thing." Riss pushed something into Swike's paw. Looking down, she saw it was an arrowhead. Riss had already begun pushing his way through the mulling vermin, using his own arrowhead to prick vermin in his way. They would jump and move away, but as they turned around, they couldn't tell who had stabbed them, seeing neither an unsheathed blade nor a guilty face. By the time they might have suspected Riss, he had already moved on. Swike smiled at Riss' ingenuity. Looking ahead of him, she predicted where he'd end up, and then, taking a different path, made her way to the same point.

Soon, the two archers were standing in the front of the crowd of vermin with nothing obstructing their view. Already, the competition had started. First, all five vermin had been ordered to prove their loyalty to Lord Koron. Apparently, Koron had made sure that each candidate's best buddy was known. Five vermin were pulled from the crowd.

"'Ey mus' kill 'ey best frien'!" the beast who had called out the names said. He was a scrawny ferret who seemed to be more voice than body. The crowd began to cheer in excitement and Swike noticed four of the vermin who had been pulled from the crowd begin to fight to try to get away. "Firs', Trisor!"

A tough looking rat stepped forward while another rat was pushed forward from among the five captives. "Come on Trisor, mate," he begged. "Ya don' wanna do this. We've al'ays been mates, haven't we?" Trisor's eye twitched, but he drew his saber anyway. "Mate, what're ya' doin'? Trisor, it's me, Krut."

"Is it always like this, Riss?" Swike whispered. She couldn't help but notice that Krut and the other four vermin who had been pulled from the crowd had been disarmed before they realized what was going on. How was it their fault that they were the friends of such talented beasts?

"Don't know, mate," said Riss. "Last new captain was chosen just before I joined the army. I didn't know the loyalty test was like this, but there are only two tests."

"Really? What's the second test?"

"Well, not a test really. A tournament. The candidates will duel until one of them is either the last alive or the last able to keep on fighting."

Swike glanced over at her brother. He looked smug and confident, but she noticed that he was very purposefully looking at Trisor and Krut, ignoring the four captives, two of whom continued to struggle. _I wonder which one is Swifcut's friend_, Swike thought, taking another look at them. Swifcut hadn't been in the army for too long. He probably wouldn't have trouble killing any of those beasts. A roar from the crowd brought Swike's attention back to Trisor. His saber was now red and Krut lay motionless on the ground. Trisor had passed.


	8. Of Loyalty and Bloodshed

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Eight: Of Loyalty and Bloodshed**

Swike watched with disgust as Krut's body was unceremoniously kicked to the side, opening up room for the next display of 'loyalty.' Trisor was wiping off his saber, his head bent down. Swike couldn't imagine how he must feel. _Koron doesn't want loyal followers_, she thought. _He wants heartless ones_.

"Nex', Spirtz!" the ferret in charge of the activities bellowed.

Spirtz was a slim weasel, the only girl who was competing for captaincy. Two swords were strapped to her back, each long, thin, and sharp enough to split a hair. She seemed to carry no other weapons, though Swike guessed that her clothes were baggy for a reason other than simply because she was thin and couldn't find clothes to fit her frame. She had sharp eyes which seemed to change color as she looked from side to side. From the four remaining captives, one was shoved forward. He was another weasel, just as slim as Spirtz. They were obviously related. Swike was very interested in how this 'test' would turn out. The weasel now facing Spirtz was the only beast who hadn't fought against being pulled from the crowd and disarmed. Was he confident that Spirtz would never kill him? Was he, unlike his fellows, not afraid of death?

The two weasels stared at each other for a second and then the guy weasel said in a raspy voice. "Knew ya' couldn' do i'."

Spirtz' eyes widened, and she closed the gap between them in a flash. Swike didn't see where the knife came from, but it came. In the blink of an eye, Spirtz had the shoulder of the other weasel in her left paw and a knife in her right paw, lodged in the gut of her friend up to the hilt. The look on his face was a cross between surprise and intense pain. Spittle and gall came out of his gaping mouth and his knees gave way as he slumped to the ground. Spirtz crouched over him, her blade still inside of him, breathing evenly as if nothing had happened. Slowly, she drew her knife out of him; so slowly that the cheering from the crowd seemed to slow as well. Then she cleaned her knife on the weasel she had just slew, sheathed it somewhere in the folds of cloth around her body, and stood up straight, her eyes sparkling.

Beside Swike, Riss flinched. True, Swike was surprised and appalled by what she had just seen, realizing that Spirtz had surly just killed her own brother, but Swike hadn't flinched. Swike glanced over at Riss. While most of the vermin in the crowd were staring at Spirtz, Riss was not. He stared intently at the body beside her.

"What's wrong?" asked Swike, taking another look at the dead weasel.

"He's not dead." said Riss.

It was possible that the weasel could have survived such an attack, but Swike still didn't get why Riss was acting this way. His expression was too intense and the tone in his voice didn't fit that of a beast concerned at the slow and painful passing of another. There was something more here.

"He's not?" she asked. Swike stared at the fallen weasel, her eyes stationary on his chest. Very slightly, it rose.

"Didn't you notice, Tyn?"

"Yes, I see now. He's still breathing. How could he breathe so easily with a wound like that?"

"No, that's not what I'm talking about. When Spirtz was taking out her blade. There was no blood on it."

"Yes there was," said Swike. "And there's blood on him now too," she indicated the weasel who was now being cleared away as Krut had been.

"No, Tyn, there wasn't blood. It's fake blood. And that was a fake blade. I noticed when she wiped it off . It slid into the hilt a bit."

Swike let this sink in. As a spy, she had learned the value of good acting, though she considered herself more of a disguise artist than a spy. Spritz obviously knew more about acting than Swike did, because she had fooled everybeast in the crowd except Riss it seemed. And now, she had passed.

Nickdirt swaggered into the center of the circle of vermin. He was a weasel and his 'friend' was a female weasel who was very pretty. She had been crying, and now she was near hysteria.

"Nickdir'! Nicky! Ya can' do this. Ya jus' can'! Don' kill me Nicky. Wha' would it be fo'?"

Nickdirt pulled out a short sword and approached the weasel before him. Her wails increased. Nickdirt stopped. His eyes darted around at the circle of vermin surrounding him, coming to settle on the female weasel.

"Ya' said we'd be tagether fo'ever." She sobbed.

Nickdirt raised his sword into the air, stopped, tried to raise it again, but then gave in. His shoulders slumped and the sword fell from his grasp. He reached down to help the weasel off the ground where she had fallen in her fear. The crowd clamored in boos at this display. The female weasel wrapped her arms around Nickdirt, still shaking with fright.

"Nickdirt fails!" yelled the ferret announcer. "Ge' 'im outta 'ere! Nex', Swifcut!"

Swifcut sped toward the center of the circle as Nickdirt and his mate were ushered to the side to watch. A stoat was steered into the area alongside Swifcut. Swike didn't recognize this creature, but it unnerved her a bit that Swifcut was going to kill a beast of the same species as her current disguise.

Riss, who seemed to have recovered from watching Spirtz' "show", nudged Swike. "Here we are Tyn. Your mate. Hope you won't miss the stoat too much. I have to say though, I'm glad it's not you up there."

Swike nodded dumbly as Swifcut drew his sword and killed the stoat in one movement, the quickest kill so far. He was back with the other candidates who had passed before the crowd had even begun their cheering.

"An' las' of all!" screamed the ferret. "We have Lucky!"

A short ferret with a crossbow strapped to his back jumped forward, looking eager for a kill. A rat who looked to also be the archer type, was shoved forward. Even so, he tried to turn back around and push his way through the crowd. At every turn, the vermin pushed together to bar his passing. He was done with the begging he had done when first pulled from the crowd and was now simply determined to escape by any means possible. Even without a weapon, he was barreling through vermin left and right, putting up a great fight. Swike noticed him turn toward where she and Riss were standing. She knew she'd have to keep him from escaping past her as the other vermin had been doing, but she wasn't looking forward to it. All of a sudden, an arrow embedded itself in a weasel standing next to her. Riss grabbed her paw and pulled her down.

"Lucky's shooting!" he yelled above the mayhem that was breaking out. Swike stayed down with Riss despite the beasts who kept running into her. Finally, the noise died down. Five beasts lay dead around her and Riss. One of them was the rat who had been Lucky's friend.

"Thanks," Swike exhaled.

"Any time Tyn," said Riss, a smile on his face.

* * *

Things started to move really fast. In the preparations for the tournament, few beasts noticed Nickdirt and his mate being pulled aside and slaughtered. 

First, Trisor and Spirtz were to fight, and then Swifcut and Lucky. After a short break, the two winners would battle it out for the captaincy.

"I don't think we want to be so close any more," said Riss.

Swike nodded and the two of them shrank back into the crowd a bit. Other vermin were only too eager to take their places. When Swike's view was cut off completely though, she bid Riss to stop. "I can't see."

"Haha! I forgot you were so short Tyn. I can see just fine."

Swike gave him an incredulous look and stepped in front of him. From here, she could see between two rats, though her view was narrow. Standing on tip paw, she realized that she could see much more and she decided to do so whenever the action moved out of her sight.

"Down in front," said Riss, pushing down on her shoulders.

"Oh stop it," said Swike, batting his paws away. "I wasn't in your way at all."

Riss gave her a toothy grin. Just as he was about to say something else though, the ferret announcer came to the center of the circle of vermin, raising his arms and voice to get everybeast's attention.

"An' now we start! Firs', Trisor verses Spirtz!"

The noise was so deafening that Swike had to cover her ears. The vermin around her began surging forward, packing tighter toward the action. She could barely see Trisor, though Spirtz was directly in front of her. The weasel flexed her limbs, the appearance of calm and unconcern. From what Swike could see of Trisor, the rat was standing stiffly with his eyes closed.

_What's he doing_, she thought, _surely he should have his eyes open. Unless he's meditating and that'd have to be the first time I ever saw a vermin do that_.

The ferret announcer began to back up toward the crowd while lowering his arms. Then, without warning, he yelled "Start!"

Trisor erupted. No other word could describe it. He sprang off the ground, drawing his saber in one deft movement, yelling louder than the crowd. His leap closed the distance between himself and Spirtz, causing him to land in front of her with his saber crashing toward the ground. Only, Spirtz wasn't there to receive the deadly end of his blade. She had casually slid to the side and then begun to walk away. Trisor turned toward her in a flash, chasing after her the few steps she had traveled. Just as he was about to attempt to slice her in half with his saber, the weasel rolled onto the ground and out of the way, coming to a standing position a few feet away, still with her back to Trisor. He yelled in outrage, the power of his last two cuts lost on the air.

"Stand still and fight!" he called after her, again running at her exposed back. Spirtz immediately went into a controlled tumble, coming out of it again near the edge of the crowd. She turned to face Trisor, still without a weapon in paw.

"Why won't you fight me?" yelled Trisor. He seemed to have realized that he wasn't going to catch Spirtz. She was too swift for him, though he remained confident that he was much stronger.

"What would be the point?" asked Spirtz in a level manner.

Trisor let out a sigh in disbelief. "What would be the _point_! We're fighting to become captains. That's the point!"

Spirtz shrugged and actually sat down on the ground. "Suit yourself."

Trisor blinked at her. He had been closing the distance between them while they spoke, his eyes trying to detect her next movement of escape, and here she was, _sitting_! Throwing caution to the wind, he charged with a yell, his saber intent on her heart. His eyes gleamed in triumph as he neared her and she remained stationary. Then, at the last possible moment, Spirtz lay back. Trisor's blade swiped the air above her and Spirtz kicked up into his stomach and brought her paws up to close over his own. She squeezed his paws, forcing him to drop his sword. Then, in a movement so fast Swike could barely catch it, she threw Trisor onto the ground on which his blade lay, stepping on the hilt as he fell so that it was pointing up into the air diagonally, and Trisor's shoulder fell full on the saber.

Trisor shouted in pain, struggling up again. Spirtz had already walked to the middle of the circle, her arms raised in triumph.

"You haven't won!" yelled Trisor, bending down to pick up his saber. That's when he realized that his shoulder had been cut past the bone; his right shoulder. "Why you!" he yelled, picking up the sword with his left paw. He charged at Spirtz who slid to the side, grabbed the rat's right arm, and pulled. Trisor crashed to the ground in pain. He didn't want to give up yet, but the battle was now beyond him. Spirtz took his weapon from him and chucked it to the side. Trisor was unable to fight. Spirtz had won.


	9. The New Captain

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Nine: The New Captain**

Spirtz was cheered out of the fighting circle, beaming. Trisor, his right arm hanging limp at his side and dripping blood everywhere, was shoved aside. Swike wondered if he would be killed later, as Nickdirt and his mate had been, but she didn't think he would be. He had made it to the semifinals. Now he'd have to live with the failure, and being maimed as he was, he'd end up with a lower, less important rank. But as Swike wondered about Trisor, Riss was obviously wondering about somebeast else.

"What do you think of Spirtz?" he asked.

Swike glanced over her shoulder at her tall friend. "I'm not sure. She's quick and sly. I think she was a good choice for this tournament. She's made it to the finals at least."

"But she hasn't killed anybeast yet. A captain needs to be harsh. If she were to become captain, I think her unit would be wary of her, but I wonder at how far their respect would go. It will also not go unnoticed when her brother is found to still be alive."

Swike shrugged, turning back toward the action. "I don't know Riss. I guess we'll just have to see. She may not become captain at all."

Swike could hear a smile in Riss' voice as he said. "And who are you rooting for Tyn?"

"Haha, I thought it was obvious Riss. My bet is on Swifcut."

As she said this, Swifcut and Lucky separated themselves from the crowd. Swike was glad to see that Lucky's back was to her. From what she could see, the beasts on the other side of the circle didn't look so happy. Many of them were trying to shrink back into the crowd or move toward the side. They didn't like being in a position to be shot down by Lucky. Swike took her eyes off of the panicked crowd and looked at her brother. His eyes never left Lucky. He looked very cool and collected. Swike didn't know how he could do this. He'd seen what Lucky was like. Wasn't he even a little worried or afraid?

"Start!" yelled the announcer.

Swike flinched, caught off guard, but luckily, Swifcut was prepared. He began to approach Lucky, zigzagging. An arrow sped past him, cutting through the air where he'd just been. Swike didn't see whether it killed a crowd member or not. Her mind was frozen in fear. As an archer herself, she couldn't help but feel that Lucky had the upper paw right now, and she feared for her brother's life. Lucky began to move along the circle created by the crowd, keeping distance between himself and Swifcut, reloading his crossbow faster than Swike had ever seen anybeast else do so. The fear in the crowd rippled like a wave wherever Swifcut moved to, wherever Lucky had his target. Three arrows later, Swifcut was still untouched, and his back was now to Swike. Swike felt Riss place his paws on her shoulders, ready to push her out of the way, but all of her concern lied with her brother at the moment, not herself.

And then, quite unexpected, Swifcut leapt into the air, a throwing knife soaring from his paw. Lucky seemed to have been placing his faith in the distance between himself and his quarry. The attack nearly caught him off guard, nearly. He flicked his crossbow up. The knife ricocheted off of the edge of the crossbow. Swike could tell that if the knife had hit the bow just a little to the right, it would have broken the bow. What horrible luck for Swifcut! But Swifcut didn't take anything in that match as bad luck. Immediately after the first knife, he sent another, lower. It was almost as if he had expected Lucky to block the first knife. With the suddenness of the attack, and then with his crossbow slightly obscuring his view, Lucky was unable to block the second knife. It embedded itself in the thigh of his right leg. He wasn't going to be making many swift moves now. Swike found herself cheering along with the crowd, who seemed to be mostly on Swifcut's side to begin with, probably because Swifcut was less likely to kill any vermin in the crowd.

Lucky stumbled backward, grappling with the knife until he was able to pull it out of his leg. Swifcut had begun to approach Lucky as soon as the second knife left his paw, a third knife in paw, but Lucky wasn't going to be caught. Still limping backward, he loaded two arrows onto his crossbow, letting them fly with a yell. Swike watched in horror as one of the arrows became lodged in Swifcut's left shoulder. A sudden thought occurred to her. _He's right pawed. It'll be alright because he's right pawed_.

The impact of the arrow hitting him knocked Swifcut's left shoulder back, upsetting his charge. He had not been zigzagging as before, apparently expecting his two throwing knives to cancel Lucky's ability to shoot for awhile.

A gleam came into Lucky's eyes and a grin crossed his face. No longer seeming to care about his wounded leg, he reloaded his crossbow, again with two arrows. Swifcut was zigzagging again, now faster than ever, closing the gap between himself and the ferret archer. He hadn't even tried to take out the arrow, leaving it in his shoulder.

Lucky let loose the arrows, yelling "Die!" They skimmed over Swifcut. He had performed a tumble, rolling over his right shoulder so that he wouldn't hurt himself any worse than he was already hurting. As he came up off of the ground, he picked up and threw a pawful of dirt into Lucky's face, now finally close enough to do so. Lucky screamed in anger, but he was talented enough with his crossbow to load it blind, and he shot an arrow into the ground where Swifcut had been almost before Swifcut had moved out of the way. Another arrow never found its way to that crossbow though. Swifcut came crashing down on the weapon with his knife, jabbing Lucky in the gut with his left paw at the same moment. It must have hurt for Swifcut to use his left paw, but he showed no emotion. Lucky dropped his broken bow and fell to the ground, reaching noticeably into his sleeve. Whatever he was grabbing for, the vermin in that crowd would never know. Swifcut slammed his knife down into the top of Lucky's skull, ending his life.

Lucky fell over, Swifcut's knife protruding from his head. The circle of vermin was broken as they charged forward, cheering Swifcut's success. Their clamor was so great that the ferret announcer, screaming forth that the final would be between Swifcut the rat and Spirtz the weasel, could barely be heard. Swike's shoulders sank as she let out her breath. She hadn't even realized that she'd been holding it. Riss began pulling her backward and she willingly went. When they were far enough back to hear each other, he turned her around to face him.

"It'll be a while until the final battle. Let's get some food."

Swike nodded. The two of them walked toward the archer tent which was nearby. Many archers were already there. Some of them looked like they hadn't even left to watch the tournament, despite the fact that all members of the army were supposed to attend. They hailed Swike and Riss as they entered the tent. The inside of the tent was a mess. Nearly everything was already packed away and bundled up tight, the bundles placed in stacks here and there. Swike and Riss sat down with some other archers and pulled food to themselves.

"How are you holding up Tyn?" asked Riss.

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You just seemed tense is all. How much do you really care about this new captain? Are you going to be in their unit?"

"No. I just care." Swike stared intently at her food.

"Really?" said Riss. The rest of their meal passed in relative silence. Swike was glad. The last thing she needed was to be found out. She hadn't messed up spying yet and didn't want to do so today.

* * *

Here it was. Now the new captain would be decided. Swike, Riss, and a few other archers stood near the front of the crowd. No longer was the arena surrounded by a circle of vermin. A makeshift platform had been erected to halt any interaction from the crowd in this final battle. Swifcut and Spirtz already stood upon the platform, facing each other. Both of them seemed unworried, maybe even unconcerned. 

"Now!" yelled the ferret announcer. "I need your wristbands."

For a moment, Swike was confused. Then she realized that the ferret had been speaking to Swifcut and Spirtz. Each of them untied the strip of green cloth on their left wrist. This battle would not end with one beast able to fight and the other unable; this battle was to the death. Neither of them had any need for their wristbands anymore. One of them would be wearing the blue of a captain by the end of the day and the other would be dead. Swike swallowed. _Everything will be alright_, she thought, _everything has to be alright_.

The ferret took the two green slips of cloth and walked to the edge of the platform. He jumped down into the crowd and turned around, the platform at chest height for him. "Start!"

Neither vermin on the platform moved. Swifcut stared intently at Spirtz, watching for any sudden moves, and Spirtz stared intently at her left paw, apparently more interested in the absence of her wristband than the fact that the battle had begun.

Then Swifcut moved. He walked purposefully to the center of the platform, stretched, and sat down. Spirtz looked up. Now she seemed mildly interested. A hint of amusement crept onto her face, for Swifcut was copying her, making fun of her tactics in her last skirmish. She began to meander across the platform, though in the general direction of Swifcut.

Swike leaned against the edge of the platform (neck height for her), wanting nothing to get in her way as she watched. Many vermin had begun to 'boo.' _They're idiots_, Swike thought, _can't they see what Swifcut and Spirtz are doing? Spirtz would never fight a normal fight. She relies too much on speed and stealth. Swifcut knows that so he's waiting for her to get closer instead of chasing her hither and thither until he's worn out_.

"This is boring," said Parlut, a weasel archer standing to Swike's left. "They aren't doing anything."

"Give them time," said Riss. "Trust me. This battle will be worth leaving the tent for."

Swifcut fished a throwing knife out of his sleeve and began rubbing it on the platform floor as if he were sharpening it. He began to hum, his eyes on his blade. Swike bit her lip in anticipation as Spirtz came closer and closer to her brother. Swifcut's humming was soon drowned out by the noise of the crowd, yelling for some action, some blood. And then, Spirtz stopped. Two sword lengths separated the two fighters now.

It happened so fast Swike's eyes could barely catch it. Spirtz drew both of the swords on her back, and holding them crossed, dashed straight at Swifcut, bringing the blades crashing down on his head. Metal clanked on metal; the vermin put up a yell as none that had yet been heard. Swike wanted to scream or faint. She pressed her eyes tightly together, wanting to shut everything out. But then the sound in the crowd changed. They were still cheering on their favorite fighter. Swike's eyes snapped open. Swifcut was on his feet, alive. He had blocked both swords with his one throwing knife, and now he had his own sword out. Swike watched in fascination as the rat and weasel dueled, streaks of light standing in the air where their blades has just been and then fading away again.

Swike had rarely seen her brother using a sword. At home, she had mostly been witness to her brothers' impromptu wrestling matches and throwing knife competitions. There was little if any elegance in Swifcut's sword fighting, but there was some skill and a lot of power. From where Swike was, she could see that Spirtz was struggling. She had a lot of talent, that was evident, but each time that one of her blades met Swifcut's, she cringed, the shock wave running through her obviously upsetting. She quickly began to alternate which sword she was using in order to give her arms a little time to recover before the next parry, backing up all the time. Unfortunately, this made her sword fighting too predictable, and in little to no time, Swifcut succeeded in disarming her, sending one sword, and then the other, flying. At this point, he had nearly backed her up to the edge of the platform.

Without hesitating to think, Spirtz performed a back flip into the crowd. Then, using the heads and shoulders of vermin, she began to skip over to the side. She dove back onto the platform, rolled onto her feet, and ran. Swifcut began to give chase, but then stopped. Swike could hear nothing but the incessant cheering from the crowd, but Swifcut seemed to be humming again as he slowly made his way toward Spirtz. As he walked by each of her swords, he gently kicked them off into the crowd. On the other side of the platform, Spirtz had turned to face him. Now, she appeared to be weaponless, though Swike doubted that she actually was.

Swifcut tossed his sword from his right to left paw. Then, in quick succession, he unsheathed and threw three throwing knives. Spirtz tried to evade them, but one of them became lodged in her side. She pulled it out and then stuffed her left paw into the wound, holding back as much blood as she could. Swifcut was advancing upon her at a fast rate now, but she didn't move. When he was nearly to her, she threw his own knife at him, sending his sword from his paw.

And then they were together again. Spirtz was faster. She drew a knife from somewhere and stabbed Swifcut in the chest. For the second time, Swike felt as if her heart had been crushed, but again, Swifcut was not dead. A look of surprise came over Spirtz' face as she realized her own mistake. In no time, Swifcut pulled out a fourth knife and put it through Spirtz' throat. She fell onto the platform, dead, still holding a fake knife in her paw.


	10. Crows

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Ten: Crows**

Swike cheered Swifcut along with the crowd until her voice was hoarse. She wanted very much to run up to him and throw her arms around him in celebration, but Swifcut didn't even know that a stoat named Tyn existed. The smile never left Swike's face as she watched the ferret announcer tie a blue strip of cloth around Swifcut's left paw. Swifcut raised his left arm into the air, basking in the roar of the crowd, the yells of "Cap'n Swifcut!" Everybeast was on an emotional high and would have remained there if not for a certain ferret climbing onto the platform. Swifcut noticed who the beast was immediately and quickly knelt in submission. With his green cape swishing behind him, Lord Koron strode toward his newest captain. A toothy grin stretched across his face.

Swike found herself looking, not at Koron, but at the beast following him. As he strode, his left paw came into view, both a blue and green strip of cloth tied around it. Swike had heard of Jaoto, Koron's second-in-command, but this was the first time she'd seen a hair of him. He was a tall weasel, slim with baggy clothing. He looked almost like … Spirtz.

"Well, we know how _somebeast_ came up for the candidacy for captain," said Riss, stressing the word 'somebeast' knowingly. Swike nodded. Apparently, Jaoto had arranged for his sister to rise in the rankings. He didn't look at all happy right now, his eyes piercing into Swifcut's bowed head.

Koron circled Swifcut. All of a sudden, he drew his sword and brought it crashing down onto the platform, a claw's breadth from Swifcut. The rat captain remained where he was without flinching. Just as quickly as he'd attacked, Koron sheathed his weapon. Then, turning his back on Swifcut, he addressed the crowd. "I give you, your newest captain!"

The cheer that rang out put all previous shouts to shame. Stiffly, Jaoto pulled Swifcut to his feet, and then Koron swept the two of them off to his tent, where the other captains were already grouped. Their planning would continue through the night. Nobeast got sleep after the battle. As soon as Lord Koron was gone, many of them dismantled the platform while others went back to the task of packing up their tents and gear.

Swike lost the archers in the crowd and slowly made her way back to Lord Koron's tent. She felt odd slipping in the back. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to be there tonight, but her satchel with all of her herbs and spare clothes was inside. Sitting waiting for her was Naysta. The vixen quickly brought a paw to her lips, signaling Swike to remain quiet, but she defeated her purpose simply by moving her arm. Swike flinched at the jangle created by Naysta's jewelry. 'Change!' Naysta mouthed. Swike did as she was bid, grateful that Naysta looked away as she destroyed her disguise and changed back into her normal clothes. As she began to pile everything back into her satchel, Naysta turned back around. She grabbed Swike's arm and pulled her into the main area of the tent. Many of the objects were piled on one side of the tent, including Koron's table and chairs. Even without furniture, Koron sat in the center of his tent, a map spread on the floor, and his second-in-command and captains surrounding him. They spoke in hushed voices, some of them pointing at the map from time to time. Jaoto, hearing Naysta's approach, turned around.

"They're here Lord."

Koron looked up from his map. "Ah, Naysta and Swike. There are some things which you should know. Come here."

Swike was not at all comfortable nearing the captains. She hadn't been aware that there were so many. A full score of captains were now looking at her and Naysta as they walked forward. Quickly, Swike found Swifcut. He was right beside Koron. He smiled at her, making her feel much better. Weakly, she tried to return the smile.

"We're here," said Koron, pointed at an area in the northeast portion of the map. Swike took her eyes off of her brother in order to look at the map. Her eyes quickly moved south and west. There it was. A small red square lay beside a road with the words _Redwall Abbey_ beside it. She felt a shiver run down her spine. _I don't want to go there!_

"Tell everybeast what you've told me," said Koron. Swike looked back at Koron. _What's he talking about? I don't have anything important to report._

"Lord Koron is the greatest warlord to have ever existed," said Naysta. Swike breathed a sigh of relief that Koron had been speaking to Naysta and not to herself. "I have Seen him, in the future, sitting upon a field of glory." Many captains began to nod, the idea of Koron being victorious, expected. Naysta's voice began to rise in volume and intensity. "I have Seen him drinking the wine of his conquest!" Naysta's body began to sway. Her words took on the aura of a chant. "He will fight, he will lead, he will kill, he will win, he will…" Naysta paused for effect. A few captains leaned forward, wanting to hear more of this wonderful future. "…make Redwall fall!"

Swike had known that it was coming and had been ready for it, but the captains had not been ready at all. At the name Redwall, many faces fell. A few captains looked ill. Others seemed to be scared. Swike noticed on some of their faces, though, the gleam of excitement, the desire to crush Redwall. Swike scanned the captains' faces. Her fears were realized as she noticed that more seemed inspired and awed than frightened. What was wrong with them? Redwall had been the death of too many vermin to count, and yet these captains were more than ready for the challenge. Even Swifcut looked eager to march to Redwall and wage war on its inhabitants.

Koron let the moment last for a while longer before speaking again. "There is only one thing I lack. One thing from Naysta's vision that I still don't have."

Swike gave Koron all of her attention. This was something she hadn't been counting on. According to Blackgut, all Koron needed was a spy and a large army. Both, he surely had.

"She Saw a large army, greater than any I had ever led. It is here, in this camp, but every beast in it walks on land. She also Saw beasts of the air. I _will_ have crows in my army, and _you're_ going to get their alliance for me." As he said this, Koron pointed at Swike, softly jabbing his claw into her chest as he said 'you're.' Swike stood in shock. She felt as if all of the blood had drained from her face. Her throat became horribly dry and her legs became weak. She was surprised that she remained standing at all.

Swike opened her mouth and then closed it. She swallowed hard and then opened her mouth again. "Me?" she squeaked.

"Yes. You are my spy and you will move among the crows and get to their leader. Then, you will make them join with me and my army."

Swike's eyes began to water, but she'd never let herself cry in front of Koron. Still, she was panicking. She hadn't been a spy before being sold into Koron's army, and yet he always seemed to expect her to do what he'd have any spy do for him. She didn't want to spy on crows and she didn't want to talk to their leader. How was she even supposed to get close to their leader? Finally gaining her voice again, she said the only thing she could think to say. "I can't disguise myself as a crow!"

No emotion showed on Koron's face. "That is not what I told you to do." He sounded calm, level … dangerous. "You will spy on the crows and speak with their leader. Naysta has Seen it." Without another word, he turned back to his map. The captains all followed his lead, and Naysta grabbed a hold of Swike's arm, pulling her away. She led Swike from the tent and back to their own tent. Swike plodded along beside her, but she paid no attention to her surroundings. When she entered their tent, she stopped moving altogether. She stood just inside the entrance, gazing at the cleared out insides of the tent, but not seeing them.

And then the tears came. Before she knew it, she was in Naysta's arms on the floor and Naysta was rocking her back and forth. Swike buried her face in Naysta's arm, letting her body go limp against the seer's body as she cried. She wasn't sure how long she cried, but by the time she was done, she had no more voice to speak with. Naysta noticed this and got her some water. Once she was able to speak, Swike whispered, "I'm going to die." Nothing Naysta said would change Swike's mind.

When the sun finally peaked over the horizon, Swike's eyes were bloodshot. Nobeast noticed though. Everything was moving. Yells could be heard all over the camp. The last few tents had finally come down and been loaded onto carts. Before the sun had completely risen, the army had formed ranks and was marching away from the sun, marching west.

* * *

Swike didn't remember much from the day's march. It had been a harsh trek at a fast pace, and she wasn't fit for it. At first, she had been surprised that an army which had lied in one spot for three seasons could keep such a pace, but she figured that the drills which were held every day, and which she had participated in only once, had worked to keep the army in marching condition. They had stopped once, for a short noon break, but she couldn't even remember by the end of the day what she had eaten for lunch. She felt bone weary. She would have collapsed in a heap and fallen straight to sleep, but her nerves were not in the best of shapes. The army had stopped a short ways from a pine grove. Swike had gotten no sleep the night before, and gazing at the pines, she knew she would get no sleep this night either. 

Uneasily, she sat down beside a fire which belonged to one of the units. The vermin around it paid her no heed. It wasn't long before Naysta found her.

"Here, eat this." Swike took the bread. It wasn't much, but she didn't care. She shoved it in her mouth and let Naysta guide her to Koron's tent, on the edge of the pine grove.

Koron thrust a bottle at her. "Drink up!" Swike paused, remembering the last time she had accepted food and drink from Lord Koron. "It will keep you awake," he said, sounding irritated. Swike took the bottle and began to drink. She made a face at the taste, but sure enough, she no longer felt like she could fall asleep in a moment's notice. "In there," Koron said, pointing into the darkness beneath the pines. "That's where they are. I expect them on my side by the morning."

This was a dismissal. Swike nodded, set down the near empty bottle and began to walk into the pine grove. She could see no other alternative. If this was how she was going to die, pecked to death by crows, them maybe it was a better fate than going on to Redwall anyway.

Slowly, the noises of the camp were eaten by the stillness under the pines. Swike wanted very much to have light, but she didn't think it would be a good idea to draw attention to herself. Even a small light in this eternal night would shine like a beacon. As she crept through the undergrowth, her mind kept shifting back and forth between _I'm not a spy_ and _I'm going to die_. After a while though, she calmed down. She had been walking for what seemed like forever, but she hadn't met a single creature. Why hadn't a crow descended upon her bearing death? Didn't they know she was here?

Swike stopped moving and looked up into the pines. She was shocked at how much she could see. She had been in the dark for so long that her eyes had adjusted to it. She could see each tree around her clearly and not just the ones directly in front of her like she'd seen when first entering the grove. As she stood still, she heard a rustle of feathers to her left. She spun around, but she couldn't see a thing except for the trees. Silently, she moved in the direction the sound had come from. Her eyes remained intent on the trees, and as she moved closer, she saw a patch of darkness blacker than the black around it. She got right under the patch of darkness and squinted up at it. It was a crow. The crow still hadn't noticed Swike's presence. _I may not be a spy, but I know how to be quiet_, Swike thought. She approached the tree and examined its bark. She didn't like what she could see, which wasn't much. Rats are not known for their climbing abilities. For that, you'd need a squirrel, but Swike knew she'd have to deal with what she had, and that was the body and abilities of a rat.

Swike dug her claws into the bark of the pine, concentrating more on being quiet than getting a good grip. With one paw relatively steady, she dug her other paw a little higher up the tree. Holding her breath, Swike began to scale the tree, often looking up at the crow to make sure that it hadn't noticed her. It had its head tucked under a wing, probably sleeping. Luckily for Swike, the crow was perched on one of the lower branches, and she made it to the branch without incident. Now here, she didn't know what to do though. She didn't have much of a plan. She just figured that it would be a good start to get up into the tree. Still not sure of what she planned to do, Swike began to inch along the branch, careful not to cause it to bounce with her movements.

And then, as an even greater surprise, Swike made it to the crow's side. She could hear its raspy breathing and see its body softly rise and fall as it slept. All of a sudden, she thought, _It's now or never!_ Swike shoved her paws under the crow's wings, clamping them on its beak. It awoke in a shower of feathers, nearly tipping both of them off the branch. Deciding that she had a good enough grip on the crow's beak, Swike took one paw away, fished a knife out of her satchel, and held it to the crow's neck, letting the bird feel the pressure of her blade.

"Take me to your leader!" she hissed.


	11. Climbing

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Eleven: Climbing**

Swike felt like an idiot. Now what? The crow's eyes stared into her own. The bird was obviously startled by Swike's capture of it, but it wasn't a great capture by any means. Here they were, up in a tree, and Swike had one paw trying to keep the crow's beak closed and the other pressing a knife to its throat. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Swike thought. _In order for either of us to get down, I'll have to let go_.

The crow seemed to have noticed this too. He began to flap his wings slowly in an effort to unbalance Swike. Swike grabbed onto his beak harder and, with her knife, drew some blood. "Be still!" The crow stopped moving, a whining sound emitting from the back of his throat. "Now," said Swike, trying to sound as if she had everything under control and knew exactly what she planned to do, "will you take me to your leader?"

The crow remained still and Swike realized that he probably refrained from nodding or shaking his head because of the placement of her blade. She wasn't willing to take the knife away, so she let up her hold on the crow's beak, hoping that he'd take the initiative to speak.

"_Yaggah!_ Sharpwing is the General. He's not far." the crow said in a soft voice.

Swike glanced around at the surrounding trees, squinting into the higher branches. Were there more crows nearby that she hadn't noticed? She felt as if her heart had jumped up into her throat. She could see more crows above her in this very tree and she figured that these weren't the only crows around. Keeping her knife pressed to her captive's neck, she let go of his beak completely and detached her bow from where it hung across her back. One-pawed, she quickly strung it. Since she was no longer holding onto the crow, he began to step away from her along the branch. Swike followed him and nicked his throat again before stepping onto one of his claws.

"Don't even think of getting away," she whispered. "And don't think of calling for help either. I'm a perfect shot," she waved her bow at the crow to let him know what she was talking about. What she had just said probably sounded loaded to the crow, but he did as he was told, not wanting to figure out if Swike was as good a shot as she claimed to be. She had, after all, strung an obviously heavy bow with one paw.

_Think, think, think_, Swike bit her lip and squinted again into the branches above her. It wouldn't be an easy climb, but she was sure she could make it up quite far without disturbing any other crows. That was, if General Sharpwing was in this tree. "Where is the General?" she asked.

"Next tree, top."

Swike tried to not look discouraged. In one swift movement, she stuck her knife back in her satchel, grabbed an arrow, and drew her bow, the arrow pointing straight into the crow's heart.

"_Gaah!_" he spat in alarm.

"Be quiet!" Swike stressed. "I'm going to climb down, you're going to direct me to the right tree and follow me up. If you don't, I'll kill you."

Without waiting for the crow's affirmative response, Swike made her way back along the branch, toward the trunk of the tree. She kept her eye on her captive as much as possible. Upon reaching the trunk, she dug her claws into it, leaving one paw holding her arrow to the string of the bow, letting the actual bow swing loosely. The crow had not moved, his eyes glued to the rat. Now that she only had one paw on the bow, he made his move, spreading his wings to take off into the air. Swike took a deep breath, let go of the trunk with her left paw, and squeezed her arm between herself and the tree, hurting her legs as she forced them to be the only things holding her in place. Even in such an uncomfortable and painful position, she was able to draw the bow and shoot. The arrow hit the branch, right below the crow's claws. Within a second, she had another arrow out and ready.

"I missed on purpose. I warned you before to not try and escape. Now, fly out of this tree and down to the ground."

The crow did as he had been told. Swike quickly repositioned herself so that she could grab onto the tree again, and then clumsily made her way to the ground. She followed the crow as he hopped over to a nearby tree. Swike began to climb and the crow followed after her, stopping on each branch until she reached him. A few times, she drew her bow and pointed the arrow up at the crow to prove to him that she still could, but he had understood her and didn't need reminding.

Swike lost track of how many braches she had reached and passed. It didn't take her long to realize that this tree belonged to the General, and the General alone. She had met no other crows on her way up, though she had spotted a few in other trees nearby. At one point, she had looked down but decided to not do that again. She could no longer see the ground.

A breeze stirred Swike's fur, sending a chill through her. She stopped. She had felt no wind since entering the pine grove until now. She must be so high in the air that few trees were tall enough to continue to block the wind. Swike hung onto the trunk of the tree with her three free paws, closing her eyes tight for a second. Then she opened them and began to look around. She had indeed climbed higher than many of the trees around. Only a few soared higher into the sky. Unfortunately for her, it looked like the tree belonging to the General was the tallest of all.

Swike looked up to the next branch. Her "captive" sat upon it, ruffling his feathers nervously. _He was on the lowest branch of the tree I found him in. He must be very low in the ranks of the crows_, Swike thought. _He must be frightened just to be so close to his General on his own._

Swike took a deep breath and pulled herself up the short distance onto the branch. It began to sway with the weight of its two passengers. Swike sat down on it, resting her back against the trunk. She was breathing hard by now and greatly desired to hide that fact but didn't think that she could.

"I don't need you any more," she huffed to the crow.

The crow spread out his wings, ready to launch himself into the night sky. Swike looked up at him with interest and noticed that he was staring at her bow which hung from her right paw.

"I won't shoot you if you're quiet. I can make my way on my own now. Just leave and tell nobeast about me."

The crow nodded and then practically fell off of the branch, headed back into the heart of the pine grove. Swike wasn't sure if she'd done the right thing. She had no way of keeping the crow silent now, but she didn't have the energy or the time to care anymore. She put away her arrow, unstrung her bow, and strapped it back onto her back. Then she began her climb again, this time with the use of all of her limbs. She kept her attention on the tree, searching all of the time for the next paw hold. When she finally reached the top, it came as a shock. A huge crow was tucked up against the trunk of the tree, his head nestled under his wing, sound asleep. Swike knelt on the branch in front of him, trying to regain her breath. Her loud breathing woke him in no time.

* * *

A/N: In case you're wondering, "heavy" or "light,"when referring to a bow, means the amount of force it takes to draw the bow, not how much the bow weighs. Heavy bows are stronger and take more power to bend, and thus, to string or draw. 


	12. General Sharpwing

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Twelve: General Sharpwing**

The wing rose and tilted out to the side. General Sharpwing pulled himself up to his full size, his wings arranged to either side, apparently as much for intimidation as for balance. Swike had always been small for a rat, but now she felt small for a beast. This crow was huge! He clacked his beak sharply, his black eyes boring into her.

_Why did I come here?_ thought Swike. _I knew this was too much for me to handle. This isn't worth it for Koron. And Naysta can't _See_ anything. I'm a master of disguise, not a negotiator between enemies. I've never claimed to be more than that._

A face swam into her mind's eye. A rat with bright eyes, hungry for power but still concerned and worried for her. Her brother's face. _I can do this. For Swifcut_.

Swike stood up. For a moment, her stomach protested, only too aware of where she was, in the top of the tallest tree of a pine grove. If she were to fall … well, she didn't want to think about that.

"I have a proposition for you, General Sharpwing," she said in a clear voice, a confident voice. "Lord Koron lies in camp at the edge of your pine grove. He is undefeated, his deeds so horrible that I could not begin to tell you." Swike wasn't sure where these words were coming from. All of a sudden, she was just saying tons of things that she knew she hadn't envisioned herself saying. "He is already the stuff of legend but wishes to be remembered beyond times that the two of us could comprehend."

General Sharpwing brought his wings in. He seemed so much smaller now. He turned his head to the side, piercing Swike with one beady eye. For some reason, he wasn't attacking. He hadn't knocked Swike to her death or moved with claws or beak to split her in two. He was listening!

"Any who stand beside him would also be remembered. He is extending this honor to you and your crows." Swike took a deep breath. She needed to gather her thoughts together, not just say the first thing that came to mind. What if the first thing that came to mind got her killed?

"_Chakka!_" spat the General. "What honor? How to get honor?"

"Lord Koron will strike the redstone building to the south, the home of goodbeasts. The redstone building will fall. His seer has Seen it." Of course, Swike knew this wasn't true. Seers were nothing more than talented fakes. But many beasts believed what they said. If the General of the crows were such a beast, this might help her to win him over.

"_Hak!_ Why take building of red stone? What for?"

Swike started. Hadn't he heard of Redwall before? Or was he just slow? She had purposefully not used the place's name. It instilled fear too quickly in too many vermin for her to risk it. But if he hadn't heard of the place, then all the better! He wouldn't be afraid to go there and Swike could lie easier.

"It is an ancient place called Redwall." Swike kept her eyes on the crow's face. He didn't flinch or show any sign of recognition. Swike became more confident. "Goodbeasts keep it, but it used to belong to vermin. We should take it back." Swike's mind squabbled for a tale to tell. She had to make this venture attractive to the crow. "Many ages of vermin. Under the ground there are treasure troves. Untold treasure! So much that the army of Lord Koron could never carry it all away! That's why we need you. With the help of crows, who can travel through the air, Redwall would not only be conquered, but held. No need to move the treasure. We could just stay there. Lord Koron would pay you handsomely too. He knows how to pay a friend just as he knows how to pay an enemy."

Sharpwing shrugged his wings aggressively. _Oh no! Maybe I shouldn't have said that last part!_

"_Yakka! Gak!_ We are not enemy of Koron. We are enemy of wormbeasts!"

"Oh, I know you are not our enemy! Of course I know that! But Lord Koron, he has a short temper. He said that if I did not return by sunrise he would…" Swike looked around at the pine grove, fighting against dizziness. Even though she wasn't sure how many crows were hidden in the branches below her, she was certain that they couldn't number even a fourth of Koron's army. But in their own grove, what could an army really do to the crows? What threat could she make up in a hurry that would actually frighten Sharpwing? Then it came to her. "He will burn down the trees of this grove."

General Sharpwing visibly stiffened. If Swike had done the wrong thing in threatening him, then she only had a few more seconds to live. But maybe he wouldn't attack her. If he believed what she had just said, then attacking her would do him no good. Sunrise was not far away.

"Where camp?" Sharpwing snapped.

Swike began to look around, trying to get her bearings. She had most likely been turned around, if not on the ground, then while climbing around the trunk of the pine tree. She wasn't sure in what direction the camp lay. Somewhere to her east, she knew, but without the sun, she couldn't be sure which direction was east. Hoping that she was right, Swike pointed in a direction where the sky looked as if it might be brightening.

Sharpwing sprang into the air. Swike thought he'd head straight toward the camp, but he was circling above her head. Then he came crashing down, heading straight for her. A yell caught in her throat as she tried to move, only to realize, too late, that she was trying to move into open space. She began to flail her arms about in wide circles, trying to regain her balance, but she could feel, in the pit of her stomach, that she wasn't going to succeed. But she didn't fall. Sharpwing was upon her before she had the chance. His claws raked her shoulders. A pained gasp escaped her lips. She tried to reach up and scratch his legs or pull out feathers, but then she stopped. He wasn't tearing her apart; he was carrying her, flying higher and higher above the pine grove. The trees below her became way too small, way too fast. Swike changed tactics and held onto Sharpwing's claws. After a second more, she also closed her eyes tightly. She felt like she was going to be sick, looking down from such a height. Was the crow General going to drop her? The very thought made her grip his claws even tighter. She wouldn't let him do that! But General Sharpwing had no intention of dropping Swike. He stopped flying higher and began to fly earthward. Swike could tell by the way her stomach moved from the forest below to the clouds above, but she didn't open her eyes. The last thing she wanted to see was the ground jumping up to smash against her.

Then, suddenly, it was all over. Sharpwing let go of her. Swike held onto his claws with all her might. He cawed angrily down at her and shook his legs. She lost hold of one of them, but then took that paw and just wrapped it around the claw she had successfully held onto, her eyes still pressed tightly shut. She could feel the difference in the crow's flight as all of her weight now hung from only one of his claws. It felt as if he were losing control and his flight had become a mad zigzag. He cawed even louder and shook his leg again. Swike would have held on for an eternity if not for the laugh that sounded right below her. Her eyes were startled open. Beneath her swinging paws, Naysta stood. She was smiling widely at the picture that the crow, with a terrified rat clinging to one of his claws, made. The General hadn't meant to drop Swike to her death after all. He had reached the ground much quicker than she had thought possible, and now he simply wanted her to let go so that he could land. She complied and fell only a little further than her own height to the ground where she landed with a thump. The vixen held out a paw to help her up, still laughing.

"I Saw that you were coming back, but I did not See that it would be so funny."

Once Swike was standing, she groaned. Not far away, was the camp. Even before sunrise, it was already stirring. Many vermin were packing, but many more had stopped to watch the show. Swike was horribly embarrassed! None of these vermin really knew her under her true identity, but she still had many friends among them, though they were unaware of it. For a moment, she felt her heart pang. On the outskirts of the camp, she could see the special archer regimen. All of them were looking at her and the newly arrived General Sharpwing. They were laughing, including one very tall rat. Riss.

But then there was no more time to think of embarrassment. Lord Koron, his forest green cape almost black in the predawn light, was striding forward. Swike stood up straight and walked to stand between him and the crow.

"Lord Koron," she said respectfully, "this is General Sharpwing of the crows. He is their leader." She wished to say that the she had convinced the crows to join the army, but just in case such a statement might prove false, she left those words unsaid.

"_Hekka!_ Crows will fight with Koron army! Beat red building!"

Lord Koron, looking very pleased, turned to look at Swike and Naysta. "I believe our spy deserves a rest and some food," he said.

Naysta pulled at Swike's elbow, leading her away. The rat followed, bewildered. Was it really that easy? Climb a tree, lie to a crow, survive a crazy flight, and then eat and take a nap? Well, whether it were that easy or not, Swike was too tired to worry about it. The night had finally caught up with her. She drank some water that Naysta found for her, but once she saw that she was going to be allowed to sleep in a wagon instead of marching along with the army, she fell to sleep on top of a bundle of tent cloths, not bothering with the food Naysta left beside her.


	13. Associations With an Assassin

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Thirteen: Associations With an Assassin**

Swike awoke as the wagon hit a large hole, jostling everything inside of it, including Swike herself. She sat up stiffly, holding a paw over her left eye. It'd be black later for sure. She shoved the tent pole away that had smacked her in the eye. It simply rolled back into place with the next bump.

"Stupid pole," she muttered, trying her best to stretch in the tight space. Then she began pushing the tent cloths back and forth, looking for the food she could barely remember being there before she fell asleep. She found it, snug between the folds of cloth, squashed completely out of recognition. She sniffed it briefly. "What is this?" she asked herself softly before cramming it in her mouth. She was too hungry to care anymore. She didn't even taste the food, swallowing without bothering to chew. All too soon, she had eaten it all. Her stomach growled. "Great," said Swike sarcastically.

She tumbled over the items in the wagon, getting her feet caught between bundles of gear in her efforts to get to the side so that she could jump down to the ground. As she was shifting two barrels which had insisted on capturing her satchel by rolling together just as she reached the edge, a paw swam into view. It held one barrel to the side, setting Swike's satchel free. The paw's match quickly took Swike by the arm, letting her down and out of the wagon.

"Thank you," said Swike, checking her satchel quickly to make sure that nothing had been broken. When she looked up again, only the creature's grip on her right arm kept her from tripping. The beast beside her was wearing a black cape with the hood drawn up over his head. Only one vermin in Lord Koron's army had a cloak like that or would think to wear something so hot without ever taking it off, even in the sun. This was Raynat, the assassin. Even though she had shared a tent with him for weeks, Swike had never been so close to Raynat before. She still didn't even know what type of beast he was.

"Good work," said Raynat.

His voice surprised Swike. She had been expecting it to sound more sinister and deep, maybe even gruff. Instead, she heard a clear voice, high for a male, though still deeper than her own. For a moment, she wondered if she'd been wrong all along. Was Raynat a girl? But that thought was banished in an instant. Standing so close, she could see under Raynat's hood, even though it was pulled low. The face she saw was that of a male rat.

"What?" she asked suddenly, realizing that Raynat had said something to her.

"Good work," he repeated. "The crows," he added, upon seeing the question on her face.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah." Personally, she didn't think she'd done that great of a job. Surely her success had come about due more to luck than talent.

"What story did you tell the crow?" asked Raynat.

It all came back to Swike. Ice gripped her heart. _The stories don't match up!_ she thought, panicked. _What I told Sharpwing and what Koron has probably told him by now don't match up!_

"What did you tell him?" asked Raynat again. There was something in the way that he asked her that she dare not remain quiet.

"I told him about Redwall," said Swike quickly. "But he'd never heard of Redwall before. Which is just crazy! I mean, everybeast has heard about Redwall, but he didn't know anything so I thought I could convince him to join the army. So I told him stuff that wasn't true. And he believed me or, at least, I think-" Raynat held a paw before Swike's lips. _I've been babbling like an idiot! And I didn't even completely answer his question. What is wrong with me?_

"What did you tell him?" repeated Raynat.

Swike took a deep breath. Was it the feel of Raynat's grip on her arm, a vice that wouldn't let go, or the knowledge of his reputation that was getting to her? Swike looked around. Her stomach plummeted. Where was the army? Why hadn't she noticed that Raynat was leading her off into the countryside? Was she being led out here so that he could kill her without drawing attention to himself? Raynat squeezed her right arm even tighter. _That's right! He asked me a question!_

"I-I told him that Redwall belonged to vermin. That goodbeasts stole it and that we want to take it back. I said there was treasure, too much treasure just for the army. I said, I said…" _Is there anything more? I can't remember!_

"Just treasure? That's not enough to convince the crows to join us so readily."

"Oh yeah! I told him the army was ready to set the pine grove on fire!"

Raynat nodded slightly. "That's it then. Crows are mortally scared of fire." He let her go. Immediately, Swike began to massage life back into her arm. It felt weird, like the blood had been cut off and the arm had swelled up, and it was red where Raynat had held her. She looked at her arm in disbelief. _He did that with one paw? I didn't even realize it was so bad!_ "Next time, warn us before you lie on the job." Raynat began to walk off. Swike stood still, looking after him, stunned. The words he had just said floated on the edge of her consciousness before two words sunk in. _Next time._

Swike ran after Raynat. "You mean you're not going to kill me?"

Raynat turned around and twisted Swike's arm (the same one he had held earlier) behind her back in a movement too fast for her to respond to. He held a knife to her throat. Already, he was drawing blood. "Do you want to die?" he whispered. The whisper sent a shiver down Swike's back. Tears began to escape out the corners of her eyes. She was breathing in shallow gasps, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Then the blade was gone and she was free. Her arm was throbbing so badly that she was surprised it wasn't visibly expanding and contracting. "You're more valuable alive," said Raynat. He began to walk off again, this time even faster.

Swike followed after Raynat slowly, stumbling a bit. She tried to cradle her right arm in her left while also holding her left paw to her throat, stanching the wound. Swike finally gave up on following Raynat and slumped against a tree, wiping her left paw clean on some leaves. She flipped open her satchel and began to gather some things together in a small bowl, mashing them together. The thin liquid that she drained from the bowl she began to drip onto her neck. It stung, but she knew that the stuff would clean out the wound well enough for her to bind it. As she was cutting a bandage with her good paw, two paws joined hers to help. Raynat began to clean the blood from her neck and helped her wrap the bandage and secure it. Swike remained silent throughout the whole thing. When Raynat took the leftover bandage material and tied it into a band, Swike ventured to speak up.

"What's that for?"

"You'll need a sling." Raynat put the sling over Swike's head and roughly lay her right arm into it. Swike winced but didn't call out. "How much do you know about herblore?" asked Raynat, tapping Swike's mixing bowl with a foot.

"A fair amount," was Swike's reply. "I used to experiment when I was younger. I can do a lot to my appearance with the use of plants and earth as well as using actual fur and whiskers. I also know a few medicinal uses, as you just saw, but only basic things."

"Know anything about poisons?"

"Um, I once burned a weed that knocked me out for half a day."

Raynat snorted. "Spies need to know about poisons."

_I'm not a spy!_ argued a voice in Swike's head.

"I'll teach you," said Raynat. He grabbed a small branch on the tree overhead and snapped it off. It was about half as tall as he was and strong, if not straight. He used it to poke around in the ground and plants along the way as he led Swike through the countryside, stopping from time to time to inform her of the names and uses of different plants. Some of them Swike already knew, but most were new to her. Raynat instructed her how to safely pick them (though she still ended up touching the furry leaves of a thistle, a red rash showing up on her paw almost immediately) and how different poisons and powerful herbs should be prepared (it appeared that Swike's all-purpose, "crush it up" technique wouldn't always work).

Swike learned to be wary of Raynat, despite his helpful behavior. Once, she asked him to repeat the name of a plant he'd just pointed out to her and she found herself on the ground in the next second, Raynat's foot across her bruised throat. "Pay attention," he said levelly. Getting back up, Swike checked her bow and arrows which had been strapped to her back. Luckily, her bow was fine, but a few arrows had been broken.

At one point, Raynat stopped beside a stream and began to wash his paws. He looked less dangerous somehow and Swike joined him.

"Where are your knives?" asked Raynat, looking at Swike out of the corner of his eye.

"Knives?" asked Swike innocently. She had four in her satchel but she had strapped another to her arm, hidden in the sleeve, when Raynat was busily looking through some mud for a special plant he wished to show her earlier.

"You have five knives," he said. "You keep them in your satchel most of the time. Where are they now?"

Swike gulped. _He must have searched my things as I slept one night._ "They're in my satchel right now," she said.

Raynat reached over quickly, his wet paw slipping easily into Swike's left sleeve. He pulled the knife out. "Don't lie to me. It doesn't work." Just as quickly, he put the knife back, expertly sliding it into its sheath. Swike had been holding her breath. Now she let it out.

A few more lessons later, the two rats found themselves out in the open, the camp beginning to light some fires on the other side of a road which stretched as far as Swike could see to the north and south.

"Redwall. Tomorrow," said Raynat, pointing southward down the road.

Swike looked nervously down the road. It didn't look at all menacing, but it felt scary enough to be so close to Redwall.

"Come," said Raynat.

Swike followed him into the camp. Many vermin looked at them as they passed, pretending to be stretching or bending over their work. _I must be quite a sight, covered in bandages like this._ Naysta met them soon. She began doting over Swike.

"Aww, you look like you've been mobbed and left to die, then picked up and dragged a ways," she said playfully. Swike glared at her. The vixen looked absolutely delighted. "It's different lessons that Raynat gives, isn't it? Not like my reading lessons. You're done with those you know. I told Koron before a new captain was to be chosen that you could read and write just fine now." All of Naysta's jewelry jangled as she walked; she was bubbling over with excitement and conversation. Swike and Raynat remained silent. "You'll start spying tomorrow," she continued. "I've Seen it!"

Raynat snorted quietly. Naysta didn't hear him but Swike did. She turned to look at him. She had the same idea. Naysta hadn't _Seen_ anything. Everyone in the army should know by now that Swike's big spying job was quickly approaching.

"We just need to figure out your disguise and story," said Naysta brightly.

"Already decided," said Raynat.

Swike and Naysta both stared at him. He acted like he hadn't noticed.

"She'll be a mouse and use a voice other than her own but still close to it. She will need to keep the same disguise for a long period of time." They had reached Lord Koron's tent, the only tent which was still put up every time the army stopped. Slipping inside, Raynat continued to talk to them. "Her story is that her family was ambushed by raiders far to the north. She got away with her life, but her bruises show the trials she has been through." Swike squinted down at her sling. As the day had progressed, she had begun to have trouble seeing out of her left eye. She remembered, now, the tent pole that had blackened her eye before she even saw Raynat. It made her feel a little better, now that she knew that it had been planned for Raynat to beat her up, but not much better.

"Excellent!" said Lord Koron, watching his three most special followers approaching. "You did a wonderful job Raynat," he said, looking Swike up and down. "You're always so thorough and precise!" He was resting his paws on a trunk. "I have a few things here for you Swike." He flipped the trunk open. He pulled out a mirror which he covered in cloth before passing it to her. It was round and unflawed. It was so big that it only just fit into Swike's satchel. She packed it away with her left paw. She knew that she had been given such an item to help her in her work, but it felt like a gift. The next things pulled out of the trunk were arrows. They looked no different than any of Swike's other arrows, but as soon as she held one in her paw, she knew they weren't the same. Only an expert archer would be able to tell the difference, but these arrows were slightly lighter than the ones hanging on her back.

"You mustn't confuse these with the rest of your arrows," Koron cautioned. "This is how we will communicate." He demonstrated by pulling one of the arrows apart. The inside had a small hollow space, just big enough to slip in rolled parchment. Swike was certain that, once a message lay inside the arrow, it would fly just as well as any of her other arrows. Truly, whoever had made them was very talented!

"I won't confuse them," she said, taking the arrows and putting them into her quiver.

"When the battle starts," said Koron, closing the trunk back up (he must be done giving her things now), "you must fight as what you are. If you're currently a mouse, fight like a mouse; if you're currently a rat, fight like a rat. This army is big enough to suffer losses. Shoot as straight as you can without care. You are a spy. Never forget that." Koron paused, his eyes never leaving Swike's face. "Choose a name for yourself. Something you know you can answer to for a long period of time, but that is fitting for a goodbeast."

Swike had figured out the answer to this question weeks ago, knowing that one day Koron would ask it of her. "Rosethorn," she said. "I'll be Rosethorn the mouse."


	14. Infiltration

**Part One: The Army**

**Chapter Fourteen: Infiltration**

Swike stood in front of Lord Koron, Naysta the seer, Raynat the assassin, Jaoto the second-in-command, and all of the captains of Lord Koron's army. They were all looking her up and down, ordering her to turn slowly in a circle from time to time. She did her best not to sweat.

"And you're certain you can maintain this disguise?" asked Koron.

Swike nodded. "For as long as you need me to. I may need to make adjustments to it every now and then, but I'll find a place and time to do that once I'm inside."

Koron grinned. "I'd swear you were a mouse and had been one your whole life. Excellent work! Now to show you to the army." He waved at her to follow him. The captains quickly left the tent before him, barking at their units to form ranks. General Sharpwing and a few crows nearly as big as him cawed at the crows to land and form lines. Swike was glad to see them there. She had been informed, before preparing her disguise, that Koron had let Sharpwing do all the talking and had gathered in no time that Swike had lied to him. The crows were still in the army and Swike had never really been in trouble.

As the army lined up and quiet spread over them, Swike felt like shaking her head and taking another look. She had spent much time among their ranks and had ventured all over the camp, but she hadn't realized the army was so vast. Now, with everybeast standing in line, it was like looking upon a sea of vermin. Swike's eyes surveyed the army, trying to make a rough calculation of their numbers. Six, no, eight thousand at least, and that wasn't including the crows. A shiver went down her spine as she envisioned a small redstone building, the walls crumbling inwards, and these stony faces before her swarming over the wreckage. Redwall had never fallen to vermin before, but there was no way it could stand up against this.

"This is my spy, Swike the rat," called out Koron in a loud voice. "She is disguised as Rosethorn the mouse. She will be among the Redwallers, giving us information from the inside. It is very possible that she will be with them for much of the time during the actual battle. You WILL NOT kill her. Memorize her face. If you're fighting and you see her, or a mouse that looks even slightly like her, DO NOT attack that mouse. If it is found out later that any one of you killed her, you will be executed. If we can't determine exactly which one of you it was, then we'll execute the entire unit which attacked the area where her body was found. Is that clear?"

A roar of understanding echoed from the army. Swike noticed that Lord Koron didn't think it necessary to inform the army that _her_ orders had been to kill any member of the army without hesitation if it came to that. Lord Koron waved his paw at the captains. One by one, the units marched forward, allowing the vermin to get a closer look at Swike before each unit marched back into its former place. Swike stood still, a blank look on her face. It unnerved her a bit to see so many eyes on her, so she just didn't let herself focus on the faces before her. Finally, the crows began to wing around Lord Koron and Swike, getting their own look. As they settled back into their former place, it was over. The army disbanded to finish the job of setting up a permanent camp (the army wouldn't move until Koron received word from Swike) and Swike was ushered back into Lord Koron's tent. She picked up her satchel and swung it over her head, checking everything in it one more time.

And then, there was nothing left to do but go. She had received all of her instructions. She was ready. With a nod from Lord Koron, she left the tent. She walked through the camp, ignoring the faces which turned toward her, getting one last look. Leaving the camp behind and stepping onto the road, she turned south and began to walk. As trees closed behind her, cutting off view of the camp, she couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief. She was on her own now, no more eyes to scrutinize her appearance. But she didn't get too comfortable. While the woods seemed empty of anything that moved, she knew Koron would have her followed. If she walked past Redwall, she would find herself dead. Koron had no uses for a disloyal spy.

* * *

Around midday, Swike found herself staring at a river which cut across the road. It had been forded by somebeast at this spot. Staring into the rushing water, Swike was grateful for the ford. Her first thoughts upon seeing the river had been that she would have to redo much of her disguise after getting wet from the swim, but now she realized she probably wouldn't have made it across the river with her life if not for the ford. Swimming in the running water by the ford were fish, fish with the distinctive look of pikes: slender, with pointed snouts. Swike shivered involuntarily at the sight of them. _They're not snakes_, she reassured herself, _they're fish_. 

Swike took a deep breath and then charged across the river, wanting to get this over with. When her footpaws touched the ground on the other side, she let out her breath in a rush. Glancing behind, she saw the fin of a pike surface and then slide under the water again. Swike turned away from the river and began to walk, very fast, away from it.

It wasn't until the woods around her began to change that Swike finally slowed down and paid attention to what she was doing. On her right, the forest was beginning to thin. Before long, there were only woods on her left. Swike stopped and looked off into the west. Grasslands extended towards some distant hills, and then, unto mountains. _Beyond that is the sea_, she thought, _and mother_. Swike had never known her mother. After giving birth to her, the searat had decided that life as a mother of four was not for her. She left to return to life at sea. Swike's father had let her go without ever acting as if he missed her. He had no intentions of leaving his current residence to endanger his life in service to another. Instead he lived on in the same place, attacking travelers with the help of his sons.

Swike blinked her eyes rapidly and shook her head. _Why these sudden thoughts of mom and dad? Mom's probably dead and I sure wish dad were._ Swike began to walk along the road again. _It shouldn't be long now. Soon I'll be in Redwall._ Swike paused mentally, awaiting the nervousness and fear that always followed any mention of that place. It didn't come. She nearly stopped walking, she was so surprised. _Do I no longer fear Redwall? Am I not afraid to see it? To enter it? To live in it?_ Swike grinned from ear to ear. _Good! I'll be able to do my job much better this way._

* * *

The sun was sinking in the west. Swike put up a paw to block its brightness as she looked in its direction. As the sun began to slide behind the distant mountains, Swike couldn't help but feel that this would make an excellent painting. The mountain tops were thrown into sharp relief by the falling sun and the sky seemed to be changing color in waves. She knew she couldn't take the time to enjoy it though. Actually, she was surprised she hadn't reached Redwall yet. Surely she should have run into it by now. Turning back to the road, Swike trudged onward. As the sun sent out its last rays before disappearing completely, they fell upon something up ahead which appeared to be red. Swike nearly jumped forward into a run before remembering her injuries. Her body wouldn't thank her later if she broke into a sprint after a day of walking almost non-stop. Plus, with Redwall in sight, it would be a good idea if she actually walked slower, to better portray herself as a pitiful, injured mouse. 

Swike staggered along the road, her face downcast. She kept her eyes looking ahead, ignoring the pain of having them staring so sharply upward. Even in the twilight, the building rearing up before her was unmistakably red. As she approached, Swike felt awe at the talents shown by the Redwallers of the past. The stones which made up the walls were all the same exact size and had been fitted together so perfectly that, even an uncountable number of seasons later, no beast intent on climbing those walls would be able to find a paw-hold. The walls themselves were so high that Swike could barely make out the top of the abbey building.

Swike lifted her head as she neared the north wall. "Water," she croaked. She had gone the entire day without food or water. Raynat had been right in instructing her to do so. She knew she would be much more impressionable in this state and already she was feeling more confident in her ability to act the part of a mouse who had been ambushed. She reached the northwest corner of Redwall and leaned against it feebly. The stones were still giving off the warmth of the sun. "Water," she managed to whisper before crumpling next to the wall. She let her eyes droop and her shoulders sag, but she remained as alert as ever, taking in all the sounds and smells of this place. She could hear running feet on the other side of the wall. Had somebeast seen her and gone to get help? Or were things so peaceful that a few young beasts were simply playing a game? Swike didn't know which but she hoped very much for the former to be true. She began to crawl slowly south along the wall. After a few minutes, she reached wood. A door. She leaned against it. There was the sound of running feet again. The door sprang open and Swike fell through it.

"Oh my!" said a voice above her. "Help it up!" Strong paws reached under her arms. Swike called out in pain. "Be careful! Can't you see that its right arm is in a sling?"

"Sorry," another voice mumbled.

Swike's head lolled back and forth as she got a look through half-lidded eyes at the beasts around her. The one in charge looked like an elderly mouse. The other two were young otters. The otters carried her inside while the mouse closed and locked the door.

"We need to get it to the infirmary!" she said.

One of the otters nodded. A third otter ran forward. "See … I … told you," she said, out of breath from running. "A … mouse."

"I never said I didn't believe you," said the elderly mouse. "Lifil, help Ronn and Char to carry it."

The new otter, Lifil, squinted into Swike's face. "I think _it_ is a _she_," she said.

"Well _she_ needs to get to the infirmary right away," spat the mouse.

Lifil sighed but didn't say anything in reply. She grabbed Swike's legs while the other two otters supported her on either side. The odd party made its way toward the abbey building. Swike let her head fall back and closed her eyes. _Who is the mouse? Is she some sort of leader here?_ Paws gripped her head, bringing it back up so that it wasn't hanging anymore. Opening her eyes a bit, Swike saw the mouse's face above her.

"What's your name?" she asked comfortingly.

Swike opened her mouth, licking her lips. "Ro-Rosethorn."

The mouse smiled. "Welcome to Redwall, Rosethorn! You're safe now!"

Swike smiled weakly, trying to look relieved though fearing that she simply looked pained. Then she closed her eyes.


	15. In the Infirmary

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Fifteen: In the Infirmary**

Swike didn't open her eyes again until the elderly mouse began instructing the otters to lay her down gently and she felt her back make contact with soft covers. Looking around the room, she assumed that this must be the infirmary. Empty beds lined three of the walls. The fourth contained built-in shelves, loaded down with jars of herbs, medicines, and other mixtures and with mounds of folded clothes, bandages, and many instruments that Swike didn't know the uses of.

"What happened to her?" asked a squirrel in a white apron, coming forward.

"She got hurt somehow!" piped in Lifil. "I saw her coming from the north."

"You may go now Lifil. Thank you for your help," said the elderly mouse. Lifil looked as if the last thing she wanted to do was leave, but it had been a dismissal, and she left. _Who _is_ this mouse? I _must _know! Does nobeast ever argue with her commands? _"Haley, we're not sure what's happened to her," she said, addressing the squirrel who was already preparing something quite foul-smelling. "What's your assessment?"

"Well," said the squirrel, looking down at Swike. "Isn't it obvious that she's been beaten up? Sprained wrist, black eye, innumerable cuts and bruises. If you don't mind, Abbess, I'd like to leave off further conversations for later. She needs attending right now."

"Yes, of course," said the mouse. "Will you be needing any help?"

The squirrel looked up at her companions. "Ronn may stay. He's been taking instructions from me lately."

"Very well. Come Char! We don't want to get in the way." The mouse (_Abbess!_ thought Swike) and one of the remaining otters left the infirmary, closing the door quietly behind them.

Throughout the entire exchange, Swike had kept her eyes open, but she had stared blankly at the ceiling, using her peripheral vision to take in the actions around her. Now Haley and Ronn were gathering up materials and cloths. Swike could hear the clink of dishes and then, with a feeling of anxiety, the slosh of water. The two of them whispered a few words to each other before coming up beside Swike.

"Ronn tells me that your name is Rosethorn," said the squirrel. "That's such a pretty name!" She set down a bowl of water on the bedside table. Swike flinched and began to scoot away. "Now we'll be having none of that," scolded Haley. "This won't hurt a bit! I just need to clean out your wounds." Swike's eyes went wide with fear. The squirrel wet a square cloth and began to lean on the side of the bed, extending the cloth toward Swike. Swike screamed and practically jumped out of the bed in her efforts to get away. Ronn, unnoticed by her, had gone around to the other side of the bed, and he barely managed to catch her before she slid to the floor.

Swike's mind was working furiously. Water would smudge her disguise! She must stay away from water at all costs! But how?

"The poor thing must be traumatized!" called out the squirrel, helping Ronn with her dry paw to get Swike back on the bed.

_Traumatized!_ thought Swike. _That's it!_ As the wet cloth moved toward her once again, Swike let out another scream and began clawing at Ronn who was trying to block her escape. "Drowned!" she yelled. "They drowned him! They drowned him!" A choked sob escaped her lips as Ronn took hold of her paws, but to Swike's great relief, Haley stepped back from the bed. A worried look crossed her face and she stood still, undetermined. Swike stopped struggling with Ronn, but she remained on the very edge of the bed, as far from Haley and the water as she could manage. Ronn was leaning close to her now, staring critically into her face. For a split second, Swike feared that he had detected something verminish about her appearance, but she dismissed the thought immediately. It was impossible; her disguise was flawless!

"The black eye looks a day or two old already," he announced, looking up at Haley. "Do we even need the water?" Swike gasped at the sound of the word 'water' and managed to pull her left paw from Ronn's hold. Her entire body shuddered with a sob, but she dare not cry. Even the salt water of her tears could cause damage to her disguise.

"I don't think she'd let us," said Haley, dropping the cloth back into the bowl with a splash. "Not while she's conscious anyway." She quickly dried her paws on her apron and then asked Ronn to fetch the concoction she had made a little earlier. It turned out to be the foul-smelling substance that had been bothering Swike since before the Abbess had even left. She knew that she recognized the scent, but she just couldn't place it. As the cup was brought toward her and the smell intensified, she remembered one of the herbs Raynat had shown her. She couldn't remember its name, but she didn't need to. She could remember what it was for: sleep.

"Help her to sit up," said Haley. Ronn rounded the bed again and began helping Swike into a sitting position. Swike pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, as if this would stop the medicine from flowing down her throat. As Haley brought the cup near to Swike, Swike began to struggle again, trying with all her might to get away from it all. "Now now, you have to drink this Rosethorn. I know it smells bad, but it'll make you feel better." The cup was pressed up against her mouth and tipped back. Most of it ended up splashing down her chin and onto the bedcovers, but Ronn had forced her mouth open and much of it made it into Swike's mouth. It tasted disgusting! Retching, Swike leaned over and spit it out. Haley sighed in exasperation. "You have to cooperate Rosethorn! I'm trying to make you well again!" But Swike was in no mood to cooperate. She refused to drink down a second glass of the sleeping draught and fought the two beasts with all her strength in their efforts to clean her back up again.

Finally, they retreated from her bedside and remained staring at her, whispering amongst themselves. Swike let herself slump against the wall at her back, her eyelids sliding down. Ronn nodded to Haley and quickly skipped out of the room. _If he gets more help, I'm done for!_ Haley approached Swike tentatively and grabbed the covers from her. She began to roll up the dirty covers and stowed them away, returning with fresh ones. Swike let her make the bed, pulling the sheet up and over her.

"Why don't you lay down and try to get some sleep Rosethorn? I promise you you'll be left alone." Swike let Haley help her back onto her back, and she closed her eyes until they were slits through which she could barely see the room. Haley left her side and retreated back to the shelves. Swike had been waiting for this, a time when no eyes were on her. Opening her eyes all the way, she leaned carefully out of bed and grabbed for her satchel which had been laid on the floor beside her bed. She thanked the bed silently for not making any noise as she moved, and with a few deft movements, she had the satchel open and had taken a small bean from one of the many pockets within it. In the next moment, the satchel was again closed and Swike was lying on her back, the bean held between her teeth. As she chewed it, she held back the desire to throw up. This bean came from a tree far to the south and she knew from experience that it would help her to remain awake. She needed it.

It was a long night. Ronn _had_ gone to get help, returning with Char and yet another otter, but it didn't matter. No matter how much they tried to get Swike to drink the sleeping draught or allow her wounds to be cleaned, she fought them tooth and claw. In the end, Haley ended up bandaging the otters and herself at the other end of the room before deciding that maybe Swike's wounds weren't dirty after all. The four beasts, all of them looking exhausted, spent the rest of the night pouring stinging substances onto Swike's cuts and bruises and wrapping bandages around every bit of her which looked to need it. As morning light crept in through the window, Swike found herself nestled in the warm covers, her wounds all fast on their way to being healed, and her entire body dry and untouched by water. Char and Ronn lay asleep on two other infirmary beds, Haley sat in a chair in the corner, her head jerking up every few minutes as she fought to stay awake, and the third otter stumbled from the room, promising to bring breakfast up from the kitchens. Swike was tried, but she couldn't have fallen asleep if she'd wanted to. A smile crossed her face as she glanced around the room. She had succeeded! She was in Redwall, she had not been found out, and more importantly, she knew she _would_ _not_ be found out.

* * *

The next day, the otters were sent away and Haley took full charge of Swike. She seemed to have realized that it would hurt Swike more than help her to get water anywhere near her and had done as much as she could without using any water at all. As Swike's wounds healed, she gradually began to act saner, and was eventually able to tell her story to Haley, who formally introduced herself as Haley Treedancer, the infirmary keeper. She greeted Swike's story with nods, tears, and pity. Swike would have had it no other way. 

According to Swike, her family of fieldmice had been attacked by a small band of varmints as they slept one night. Her father had been stabbed through with a pike and the rest of the family rounded up into the pantry, there being no windows and only one door. Still, they had all fought, resulting to dumping food on the vermin every time the pantry door was opened. In a last ditch effort to get out, they had piled all of the flour at the back of the pantry and set it on fire, blasting a hole in the wall. Swike claimed that her mother had died in the blast, shielding her children. Then it had been Swike and her three brothers left. They had run, but the vermin were fast to follow, alerted by the explosion. Her older brother had been taken out by an arrow to the back of the head, leaving her to care for the two youngest mice. Just as she thought she had gotten away, a ferret had jumped out from behind a tree, cutting down one of her brothers and then grabbing the youngest, his scimitar at the dibbun's throat. Swike claimed that she had had no choice at that point but to go back to the house. She and her brother had been tied up and beaten. Each time they blacked out from the pain, they were awakened with water thrown into their faces and Swike had been interrogated many times on where her family kept their riches. Of course, she explained to Haley, they owned nothing that the vermin would consider to be riches. In the end, her youngest brother had been drowned before her very eyes as the vermin tried to make her reveal the hiding place of gold which did not exist. That night, Swike said, she had managed to get a hold of one of their kitchen knives and she cut her bonds and then the throat of each and every vermin in the house. After that, there had been nothing left to do but leave. She had heard of Redwall and hoped that it would become her new home.

Tears streaming openly down her face, Haley reached over and gave Swike a fierce hug. "Oh you poor thing! To lose your family like that! Oh, it's just terrible! But you're here now! Redwall will be your home, and a finer home there never was!" Haley seemed to realize what a bad choice of words she had made and put a paw to her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry dear! I'm sure, I'm sure your home was lovely before, before all that…" her voice faded away into nothing. She began to straighten the covers draped over Swike. "At least your wounds look like they're healing fine! You'll be able to leave the infirmary tomorrow Rosethorn! Then, I'm sure one of the young beasts would be more than happy to show you around Redwall."

Swike gave Haley a strained grin. "Thank you Miss Haley," she said. "And … I'm sorry to have given you so much trouble. I'll wash later, I really will, but … I'd rather do so by myself."

The squirrel nodded fervently, dabbing at her eyes with a kerchief. "Of course, dear, of course! Completely understandable." She got up and made her way to the door. "I'll go tell the Abbess of your progress now, if you won't mind being alone for a while. I'll also see about getting you a room to yourself. That is, unless you'd rather share a room with somebeast else of course." She looked back at Swike.

"My own room would be nice," she said with a smile. The squirrel left, closing the door behind herself. "Oh yes," said Swike softly to herself. "My own room would be wonderful." A sinister grin flashed across her face before fading again and she lay down to have her first real sleep since she had entered Redwall.


	16. Chinley

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Sixteen: Chinley**

Discharged from the infirmary, Swike was led to a room on the third floor on the western side of the abbey. Closing the door, she quickly pulled the chair over from the corner of the room and placed it at an angle, snugly jammed under the doorknob. The last thing she needed was somebeast barging in as she destroyed and then recreated her disguise. A water basin with steaming water lay at the foot of the bed and Swike hastened to take off her bandages and wash. She took out the mirror Koron had given her and laid it on the bed, shooting glances at her face from time to time. Whatever Haley had put on her eye, it had done the trick. She couldn't tell, looking at her reflection, which eye had been blackened. Finishing her job quickly, she picked up the towel beside the basin and began to dry herself off. Crawling onto the bed, she continued to stare into her rat face. Over the last month, she had sat in front of a mirror so often, critically changing her face with each new day, that she barely even saw her face anymore. She knew every hair upon it, but as she looked into the mirror, her wet fur sticking out in patches, she saw something new, something she would have never thought to look for before. Her breath caught in her throat and the towel dropped from her paw. Leaning toward the mirror, her eyes whipped back and forth, taking in the curve of her jaw, the slimness of her whiskers, the size and shape of her eyes.

It had never gone unnoticed by Swike that Lord Koron's army was made up almost exclusively of male vermin. Males were, in general, stronger and faster, more cunning and vicious. She had come up against tough female rats and ferrets and weasels, but there had also been those who weren't tough at all, those that could be known by no other title than temptress. In some ways, Swike had scorned them for their tricky ways, gaining renown based on who their friends were and moving among the men, leaving ruined lives and unfulfilled dreams in their wake. But, there had been one thing about them which had always attracted Swike: their looks. A few times she had even gone as far as disguising herself as one of them; making herself beautiful was not so hard a thing to do. Staring now at her face though, at her real face, she couldn't believe she'd never seen it before.

"I'm pretty," said Swike softly, blinking at herself. And it was true. Swike was very pretty. Though unknown to her, a few rats had watched her from time to time, walking to Lord Koron's tent in the morning and then away from it at night, but never approaching her. As Koron's personal spy and as a master of disguise, she was … unapproachable. "I don't believe it," she whispered. "All this time… And I never…"

Swike shook her head and picked up the towel again. _This means nothing. I'm not here to gawk at my reflection. I'm here to spy on the Redwallers._ Snatching up her satchel forcefully (a bit too forcefully as nearly half the contents spilled out over her bed and the floor) she set about her task of again becoming Rosethorn. _Rosethorn has her own charm. There's nothing to regret, as I become her._ But this thought did little to comfort her. Sure, half an hour later she looked like a mouse, but she did so with a heart full of regret, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

* * *

An hour later, a knock came at Swike's door. "Come in," she intoned. She was sitting on her bed, her back up against the wall and a sketchpad in her lap. The chair had long ago been removed to the corner it had started in, the mirror now propped upon it, draped in cloth. Her bow and quiver of arrows were leaned against the corner next to the window. The door opened creakily. _I must oil the hinges soon._ Swike didn't look up from her sketchpad. She was currently drawing a dibbun fieldmouse, determined to pass it off as a sketch of her youngest "brother." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the beast who had opened the door had walked into the room but was hesitating to approach, a silent spectator. After adding a bit more shading to the dibbun's eyes, Swike looked up. 

The young otter, Lifil, stood before her. Instantly, a blush covered Lifil's cheeks. "I'm sorry for interrupting you," she said hurriedly, bobbing a hasty (and clumsy) curtsy. _Now this is odd_, thought Swike. _She was so talkative before, so forward. I wonder what's made her all stiff and nervous._

"Not at all," said Swike.

"What are you drawing?" asked Lifil, taking a step closer to the bed.

"My brother," said Swike, her voiced strained, dry.

"Oh," said Lifil, stepping back once again. Her eyes drifted to the floor. "I heard about … what happened to you. I'm really sorry!"

Swike grinned for a second before realizing her position and turning her grin into a grimace. _Thank goodness she's looking at the floor!_ "Look, you don't need to act like this. I'm just, just like anybeast else. Have, I mean, are you here to show me around?"

Lifil's attitude changed in an instant. "Oh yes! I'm to be your guide! I've lived here all my life, in the abbey. There ain't no beast better than me at helping you around. And I know everybeast that lives here too!" She bounded forward, acting just as curious and friendly as Swike would have expected her to, based on the little she had seen of her the night she arrived at Redwall. "Wow!" said Lifil. "You're some artist! You may even be better than old Chinley!"

Swike gazed into the smiling face of the dibbun before her. "But it doesn't look right," she said. "I can't seem to make it look like him."

"Well, nobeast is perfect," said Lifil quickly. "And I'm sure it's close enough. If you stand back like this and squint your eyes a bit," Lifil took a step back from the bed, scrunching her eyes up so that her face became full of more wrinkles than Swike would have thought possible for such a young beast, "it almost looks real, not like a drawing at all!"

Swike laughed a bit and Lifil joined in the laughter. Then she grabbed Swike's arm, pulling her off of the bed. "Come on! I've got to show you everything! The abbey's just wonderful. You're going to love it."

With no thought of protesting, Swike let the eager young otter lead her from her new room.

"We'll start at the top and work our way down! How does that sound?" But Lifil wasn't really expecting an answer and began running up a flight of stairs, Swike hastening to keep up.

By the time they reached what Lifil called the "top," Swike was sweating a bit and out of breath. She collapsed as she came to the last stair, panting.

"Oh! I'm so stupid! The elders are always telling me so too!" Lifil helped Swike to her feet. "You look whole now, so I forgot you'd just recovered from all those injuries. I'm so stupid!" She looked flustered as she gazed into Swike's eyes. "Are you quite alright Rosethorn?"

Swike nodded mutely, trying to regain her breath.

"Look! I know a trick," said Lifil. "Do this." She began to spread her arms wide, slowly inhaling at the same time. As her arms and lungs reached their limit, she stopped, holding both her breath and her position for a few seconds. Then, just as slowly, she exhaled, bringing her arms in until they were before her again. "Just do it a few times. You'll have your breath under control then."

Swike obeyed, copying what Lifil had done. To her delight, her breathing had become completely normal after the second time through the motions. She was no longer gasping for air like a grounded fish. "Where'd you learn that?"

"My dad taught me. I could introduce you later. He's the Skipper." Swike looked shocked, but this was, indeed, shocking news. She knew very well what the title 'Skipper' meant. Luckily, Lifil had not noticed the look on her companion's face as she had just spun in a circle on the spot, surveying their surroundings. "This," she announced, "is the attic! There's a lot more to it really. Different rooms and such, but it's not all safe, old wood you know. Only one part's even used anymore." She took hold of Swike's paw and led her toward a door not far away. It was slightly ajar, and after a short knock, Lifil pushed it open. She glanced hurriedly around the room, looking left and right, standing on tip paw and then crouching down low. Finally, deciding that they were surely alone, she grinned at Swike. "This is one of Chinley's rooms. Abbess Pojam lets him use it. I'm not sure what he does in here, none of us are, but it makes him happy."

Swike's eyes moved across the room. A window on the opposite wall let in hazy sunlight, the rays of light revealing particles of dust floating in the air. The wall to the left contained shelves crammed mostly with rolled up parchments and a few books. The rest of the room was given over almost exclusively to loaded down tables with barely enough room between them to walk. A few stools stood at random throughout the room, currently pushed under the tables so that all of the walkways were clear. Most of the tables on the left side of the room, like the shelves, were covered in parchments, papers, books, and jars of ink and quills. Her paws were itching to shift through those papers and discover their secrets, discover what Chinley was doing, but she knew this was not the time. The rest of the room could be taken in at a glance and would probably not require much close inspection by her at a later date. The nearest table, for instance, was obviously used for eating. A few old dishes lay upon it, still waiting to be taken to the kitchens, and a stash of napkins lay folded near the edge of the table. Most of the other tables appeared to hold an assortment of contraptions. She saw various weapons and tools, some in working order, some so old that they could surely not be of use to anybeast anymore, and others, unmistakably in pieces, as if Chinley had taken them apart or broken them. She recognized ropes, wheels, carvings, pottery, and stashes of herbs. The table directly under the window looked as if it was an art station and she could barely see unfinished drawings and paintings upon it. On the whole, the room was nothing short of baffling, unexpected, and spectacular.

"It's odd, isn't it?" said Lifil. Swike jumped. She had nearly forgotten that the otter stood beside her.

"Yeah. Um, did you say this was _one_ of Chinley's rooms?'

"Oh yes. He has a bedroom of course. He has his own room, just like you." She made a face. "I don't have my own room! I sleep with three other beasts. We're all about the same age."

"But his bedroom surly couldn't look like this," said Swike, unconcerned about Lifil's unfair sleeping conditions.

"Well, no it doesn't, not quite. I mean, it's just as cluttered, but at least he leaves the bed clear so that he can sleep at night. Well, we can go now." Lifil took hold of the doorknob and moved the door till it was slightly ajar again before steering Swike back to the stairs. "You've already met Chinley's sister," she said conversationally.

"I have? Is he the brother of the Abbess?" Swike was thinking of Lifil's wording earlier of 'old Chinley,' and the Abbess was by far the oldest beast she had met.

"No, he's Haley's older brother. I've never seen siblings who are so different! Haley is always working and cleaning and caring for the sick, but all Chinley ever seems to do is sit around in his room or in the attic, doing what he calls 'important projects.' But I think the only thing he does worth paying attention to is his artwork, and even that he rarely presents to the abbey. Sometimes we don't see him for days, but Haley always brings him meals. She really is so very kind!"

"So he's a squirrel?"

"Yes, old Chinley is a squirrel. I've never seen him climb a tree though. That's about as unnatural as an otter never taking a dive in the pond!"

The two of them had begun to descend a second flight of stairs. "Is there nothing on this floor worth looking at?" asked Swike.

"No, not really. None of the rooms are used. This next floor down has some of the dormitories though. In fact, Chinley's room isn't far away. Let's see if the door's open."

With barely-masked enthusiasm, Lifil led the way down a musty hallway, eventually creeping up on a door which was, luckily, wide open. The two beasts stuck their heads warily into the doorway. Upon the bed, fast asleep, was an old squirrel. He looked nothing like the kindly infirmary keeper, and Swike knew that she would just have to take Lifil's word that the two were related. A book lay open on his chest and dust had settled around and on him, making his fur look even grayer than it really was. The room was cluttered with discarded garments, an assortment of walking sticks, and, not surprisingly, mounds of books and parchments. Quietly, the two beasts crept away and began to descend to the next level of the abbey.


	17. The First Report

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Seventeen: The First Report**

Swike sat up late that night, putting the finishing touches on her first report for Lord Koron by candlelight. It had been a very eventful day and she had a lot of information to pass onto the ferret.

After leaving Chinley's room, Lifil had led Swike through the other floors of the abbey, showing her the bedrooms of other important and interesting beasts. Swike now knew where the Abbess, the Foremole, the Skipper, the Recorder, the Friar, the Cellarhog, the Badgermum, and the most talented cooks, healers, and warriors slept. She had been shown again where the infirmary was located and was also shown the nursery, where the dibbuns slept. One of the slips of parchment in front of Swike now held a cramped map of all of the floors of the abbey, showing everything she knew of it thus far. She scanned the ground floor again, making sure that there were no mistakes on it. That floor had been most interesting to her. The stairs led down into the Great Hall where meals were usually served. Stained glass windows sat high in the eastern wall. Long tables, benches lining their sides, were arranged tidily in the immense room.

Without a doubt, though, the most curious and noteworthy thing in the room, maybe in the entire abbey, was a tapestry upon the wall. Lifil had excitedly informed Swike that the mouse in the foreground of the tapestry was Martin the Warrior, the guardian of the abbey and one of its founders. Swike had stared up into the mouse's face, careful to not smirk at the hilarity of it. _Just like goodbeasts_, she had thought,_ to tell stories about a mouse, so feared that the vermin within the weave of the tapestry ran terrified from him._ Despite the fact that Swike was certain she would have never run from such a creature, she had to hand it to the Redwallers that their ancestors knew a thing or two about weaving. The mouse had an air about him which spoke to the beasts which gazed upon his tapestry. While Swike doubted any real creature could have such a look about him, it was undeniable that this picture spoke of a beast whom nobeast would dare to cross, and though his pose was relaxed, Swike had no doubt that he could, at any moment, swing the sword at his side around, dealing out death and destruction.

Lifil had next drawn Swike's attention to the area above the tapestry. There, mounted on the wall, was the same sword as the one held by Martin. Swike shivered now, as she looked upon her pages of notes. She had shivered then too. It was like the sword had walked out of the tapestry, out of the past. It had been enough to convince her that Martin was real. He had existed.

Swike began to read over her information on Martin the Warrior.

_The Redwallers believe that Martin the Warrior, their guardian and founder, continues to watch over the abbey. While nobeast now lives who can claim that Martin has spoken with them, they all still believe that he has visited abbeybeasts in the past to warn of troubles to come and to guide them through dark times. Apparently, he usually comes to beasts in their dreams. I cannot say, one way or the other, how true this is._

While these were Swike's final words on the matter, she already had her own opinions. The Redwaller's belief in a dead mouse watching over them and guiding them was as stupid as vermin beliefs that seers could really see the future. Martin was dead. His tapestry and sword might remain to tell his story and to give the Redwallers hope, but he was dead. Dead beasts could not do anything to impact the lives of the living. Swike believed that this would probably be the last thing that she would have to say to Lord Koron in regards to Martin the Warrior.

Next Lifil had led Swike through the kitchens, introducing her to a few of the cooks, and, more importantly, to Redwall cooking. Swike licked her snout, remembering. She had never had such food in her life! Buttered scones, filled with honey; white and yellow cheeses, studded with nuts and peppers; bread, fresh from the oven and steaming; soup blended to a perfect balance of vegetables, spices, and goodness. Swike felt that if it were physically possible, her head would be spinning, just at the thought of the foods.

Beneath the kitchens, Swike found herself in a very cozy room which Lifil proclaimed to be Cavern Hole, and next she had been directed to the floors and floors of store rooms and cellars beneath the abbey. Redwall was definitely well supplied. Swike was finally able to see how they had outlasted siege upon siege in the past. Unless their food and drink were poisoned or ruined, they could sit very comfortably within their walls for seasons on end. Undoubtedly, Lord Koron would have to think very hard on this before acting. Swike knew she might be ordered to poison the stores of food herself if Raynat could not sneak inside, but she hastily pushed this thought aside. She would worry about that latter if she had to.

She turned the sheet with the map of Redwall over. On the back she had outlined a map of the grounds. She had labeled where the bell tower, gatehouse, pond, vegetable and fruit gardens, orchard, and other landmarks were. Of everything on the grounds, three places had seemed of the most importance to her. The gatehouse, musty and dusty, incased many of the records of past seasons. Swike intended to spend many an hour within the small building, reading over past attempts at overcoming the abbey and how the Redwallers had defended themselves.

The second point of interest had been the bell tower. Swike had heard the bells ringing from time to time while in the infirmary and was grateful when Lifil was able to explain the meaning of the bells to her. Each of the twin bells was rung once at dawn to call the Redwallers to awake and make their way to breakfast, at noon to call them to lunch, at dinner, and at midnight. Lifil had gone on to explain that there were special bell chimes to indicate different things to the Redwallers and to the surrounding forest. If each bell was rung once and then the first bell was rung once again, then guests or friends were making their way along the road toward Redwall. Of course, this only happened if the guests were spotted and Swike accepted the apology for the fact that her own arrival was not marked with such a welcome. The bells could be used for one other thing though. They could warn the Redwallers of the approach of danger. Lifil said that every young beast was taught to know the sound of it, though Lifil had never witnessed the bells being used in such a way. Only one bell would be rung, rung continuously until the warriors of Redwall knew to arise into action and the beasts in the surrounding woods could hasten to seek shelter within the walls of the abbey. Swike smiled at her notes. If such a warning were given when the army arrived, Lord Koron would know the meaning of it. It was no longer a secret code.

The last thing within the walls of Redwall which had drawn Swike's notice was an area of clear ground to the north of the abbey. It was used by the warriors and the young hopeful beasts as a training area. There were areas set up for archery, sling shot practice, spear, lance, and swordplay. There was training in paw to paw combat and there was instructing in the correct care and making of weapons. It had surprised Swike at first to see something so similar to the army training grounds in a place which she knew to be peaceful, but her surprise was quickly turned into curiosity. Lifil had been more than eager to watch Swike with a bow in her paws, having noticed that Swike owned a bow and quiver of arrows. A small contest had ensued between Swike and four other archers to see who the best was. One weathered squirrel shot better than any beast Swike had seen in her life, but Swike was an easy second, out shooting the other contenders. Next, Swike had watched competitions with other weapons, noting that the Redwallers were not without their warriors. Despite their talents though, she couldn't help but notice that they treated fighting skills as somewhat of a game. They loved to compete with each other, but Swike doubted that many of them had ever been in a real battle before. How would they fare against the seasoned fighters in the army who had already bloodied their paws?

Swike stoppered her ink and began to roll up her notes. She grabbed one of her special arrows, slid it apart, and filled the inside with her first report. She had to get the report to somebeast in the army. Quickly stringing her bow and swinging it over her shoulder, she left the room, happy that her recent oiling of the hinges made the door move soundlessly. She let her mind drift over the happenings of that day as she padded her way down flights of stairs.

_Lifil had seemed most excited about the pond, pointing it out happily to a fidgety Swike. There, Swike had met two of Lifil's roommates, another young otter, dripping from a recent dip in the pond, and a mousemaid. The otter called herself Jennet and the mousemaid was Maren. Maren, obviously delighted that there was another young mouse within the abbey, had tagged along with Swike and Lifil, laughing more than Swike thought was necessary._

Swike exited the abbey building, breathing in the comforting scent of the nearby orchard. She made her way to the wall and began to walk alongside it until she found stairs. She would have to shoot her arrow from atop the battlements. As she climbed, her mind continued to drift.

_Maren, though she seemed stupid with her non-stop giggling, had proved to know just as much about the abbey as Lifil did. She had been the beast to point out their other roommate, a short squirrel who apparently didn't spend too much time with the other three. The squirrel had been bounding out the door of the bell tower at the time that Maren pointed her out._

"_That's Gyis," she had announced. "She's the youngest beast in the abbey who actually has a job. She's the bellringer!"_

Swike reached the wall top. She scanned the trees to the north, finding a likeable one instantly. An oak tree, old and weathered, grew just a few trees off the road and in clear shot of the abbey. Notching her arrow to her bow, Swike took all the time she needed to position her body and to aim. Silently, she let go of the string and watched as the arrow sped off into the night. It was too dark to be sure, but she knew that her arrow had found its target. A smile creeping onto her face, she turned to leave. Her eyes alighted on the bell tower, standing silently not too far away and thoughts of the last few words of her report came to mind.

_I will always shoot my reports into the same tree to the north of Redwall unless instructed to shoot somewhere else. From the information which I have gathered today, I believe that the best place to send me my instructions would be the bell tower. Any talented archer can stand on the far side of the road to make their shot. They should have a clear shot into the western window of the tower. I will check every morning, before dawn, which is when the bells are first rung, to see if there are any arrows in the room._


	18. Startled

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Eighteen: Startled**

Swike's eyes snapped open.

_Why am I awake? The sun isn't even up._

Then she remembered.

_Lord Koron's response!_

Swike sprang out of bed. Faster than lightning, she lit a candle and whipped the cloth off of the mirror in the corner. Deciding that her sleep had not disturbed her disguise, at least not enough for anybeast to notice in the dark, Swike hastily blew out her candle and dashed out the door, candle in paw.

A few minutes later, Swike stood beneath the bells of the bell tower, breathing heavily. She lit her candle and began to search the ground of the room feverishly. She walked over every inch of the room three times, sticking her candle into the corners of the room before she decided that there was no arrow to find. She stuck her head out of the western window and gazed down at the road. Nobeast was visible down below and a quick check told her that no arrows were stuck in the mortar of the wall near the window. Fearing that Gyis would be showing up soon, Swike made her way back down the stairs and out the door at the bottom of the tower. She let her eyes fall upon the abbey. The edges of the building were barely discernable. Dawn was fast approaching. Turning so that her body blocked out the light of her candle from the windows of the abbey, Swike began to scour the ground around the foot of the tower. She walked over the cold, packed dirt twice, blew out her candle, and turned to head back to the abbey.

_No reason to panic. No reason at all_, Swike told herself. _Lord Koron wouldn't have enough time in one night to reply. _Swike let her eyes dart toward the north wall. _What if he didn't even get my report? He told me to shoot at a tree, preferably to the north of the abbey. He told me he would always have a few crows on watch. Was I seen?_ Swike shook her head to clear it as she slid through the door into the Great Hall. She could hear noise within the kitchen. Slinking into a patch of shadow, Swike waited. She didn't have very long to wait. Within a few minutes, Gyis descended the stairs into the Great Hall, stretching out her puffy tail and rubbing her eyes. The squirrel exited the abbey without looking in Swike's direction. As soon as the door swung closed, Swike sprinted for the staircase and then up to her room. Closing the door quietly behind her, she set her candle to the side and collapsed on her bed, gasping for breath. Each of the twin bells was rung once.

* * *

Swike slept through breakfast. When she awoke, she checked her appearance in her mirror. Rosethorn the mouse stared back at her. Opening her door, she found Lifil standing before her, paw raised to knock on the door. Swike stumbled backwards. 

"Oh! I'm sorry Rosethorn! I didn't mean to startle you! But I noticed you weren't at breakfast. I came to make sure that you were awake and alright."

Swike nodded. "I'll be alright once I get some food in me. I'm afraid that I'm not an early riser though."

"Oh, sometimes I don't want to get up in the morning either! I know just how you feel! But don't worry about your stomach. I'm sure that the cooks will give you some breakfast. There are always a few beasts who don't wake up in time."

Swike followed Lifil down to the kitchen where she was promptly presented with a few rolls, stuffed with nuts and fruits, and some hot tea, sweetened with honey. Swike nearly forgot to thank the cooks as she lost herself in the meal. Lifil left her alone to eat and began rattling off a long list of foods to one of the assistant cooks in a businesslike manner. As the assistant cook ran off to fetch the food, Swike turned a questioning eye on the otter.

"We're taking a little trip into Mossflower today," she replied cheerily. "Me, Maren, the Bagermum, Teti (she's a nice old mole who spends most of her time with the dibbuns), and a few of the older dibbuns are going. Haley has given us a list of herbs to find for her, but it really doesn't matter if we find them or not. It's just a trip for fun. Do you want to come?"

"Yes," said Swike instantly. _This will be the perfect chance for me to check out Mossflower Wood!_

* * *

About an hour before noon, the motley group set out, leaving by way of the eastern wall gate. Five of the dibbuns were tagging along with the group: two mice, two moles, and a squirrel. The squirrel was an absolute terror and seemed to be the ringleader of the group, constantly trying to find ways to escape the adults, but Ammiv, the Bagermum, knew him well and never took her eyes off him. Lifil, Maren, and Swike were all carting around baskets full of the food and drink which would be the party's lunch, but even thus burdened, they all found themselves running to and fro, rounding up the dibbuns seemingly without end. By the time they had reached a river, which Lifil announced to Swike as River Moss, Swike was extremely annoyed at the dibbuns and couldn't help replaying a scene in her head where she tied them all up, hung them from the trees, and left them. 

"So, is there anybeast who lives around here?" asked Swike conversationally as she set out the canteens of cordial and then helped Maren to cut up the bread.

"Sure there are," said Maren. "There are the shrews, for one."

"Yeah, the GUOSIM!" said Lifil, straightening the blankets on which everybeast was going to sit while eating.

"The what?" asked Swike.

"GUOSIM," repeated Lifil.

"It stands for Guerrilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower," said Maren helpfully.

"Oh."

"And then there are families of squirrels a little south of here," said Lifil, walking over and taking the bread from the other two beasts to set it in the middle of the blankets. "And a holt of otters just north along the river, but half of the holt is already stationed at Redwall."

"Anybeast else?" asked Swike.

Maren stopped cutting up the cheese in front of her and got a thoughtful look on her face. "Only other beasts I can think of would be the birds. There are lots of birds in Mossflower, but I don't know all of them or anything."

"I'd have to agree," said Lifil. "Just birds other than the squirrels, otters, and shrews."

"Is the food about ready girls?" asked Ammiv.

"Yes Badgermum," said Maren.

"Good, then Lifil can help me fetch these dibbuns out of the shallows while you mousemaids set all the food out." Lifil entered the river a second later, helping the Badgermum and the elderly mole to get all of the dibbuns back on the shore. Swike and Maren set out the rest of the food and then sat down on the edge of the blankets, Swike making sure to stay away from the wet beasts.

The dibbuns, who had been so eager all day to cause trouble, seemed to change their minds at the sight of all of the food. They began to stuff their faces, thoroughly enjoying the picnic.

"Hur! They'm loike they food, burr aye!" said Teti good-naturedly.

Swike couldn't say that she didn't agree with the dibbuns. The Redwall food seemed just as good for a picnic as it had within the Great Hall or the kitchens back in Redwall. She took a huge bite of a scone with strawberry jam on it, closing her eyes to enjoy it.

The squirrel dibbun screamed.

Swike's eyes sprang open. Her jaw dropped; half of the bite of scone fell out of her mouth, unnoticed. Half in the river, half out, a serpent had come up right behind the youngster, clamping its jaws down right where Swike would have sworn the dibbun had just been sitting.

"Bren, are you alright?" asked Ammiv hurriedly to the squirrel in her lap. The dibbun looked terrified, having been barely snatched out of harm's way, and he didn't say a thing. The snake hissed and swerved its body so that it could bite into one of the young mice. Teti, looking as scared as the dibbuns, who were now starting to scream, barely got the mouse away from the jaws in time. The next mouse wasn't as lucky. She had stood up to run away but had tripped over her own paws. The serpent was on her in no time, biting down onto her head. Only her footpaws could be seen, sticking out of the snake's mouth.

The other four dibbuns were all hysterical, crying and screaming loudly. Maren, Teti, and Ammiv were simply trying to keep the unhurt dibbuns away from the snake. Swike couldn't bring herself to move at all. She felt frozen. Then, to Swike's great surprise, she witnessed Lifil, bearing a branch torn off from a nearby tree, pouncing on the retreating serpent. Lifil crashed the branch down on the snake's body again and again. As it slid further into the water, she followed it fearlessly, keeping up a relentless attack. She was yelling without words, her shoulders straining with the force of her attack. Finally, the snake did the only thing it could do. It let go of the dibbun and turned its jaws on Lifil instead. The otter continued to bring her tree branch down on the snake's head and jaws. The squirrel dibbun, Bren, was dumped unceremoniously into Swike's lap, causing her to jump, and then Ammiv was in the river too. With an almighty roar, the badger reached out for the snake and came down on it with her bare paw. The serpent looked like it had gone limp, but in the next moment it was streaking downstream, away from the badger and the tree-branch-wielding otter.

The picnic was over. Ammiv placed the young mousemaid who had been in the snake's jaws into one of the empty baskets and dashed in the direction of the abbey without a word, the basket in her arms. Swike found that she could move again and quickly helped Maren to dump everything from the picnic into the two remaining baskets. The two of them carried the baskets while Teti and Lifil took hold of the paws of the four remaining dibbuns and they all headed back to the abbey. The dibbuns cried the whole way.

* * *

The mouse dibbun who had been attacked was dead. Haley proclaimed that the serpent had been venomous. The abbey was in a state of shock. They dearly loved their dibbuns, and to have one so young die such a horrible death was unheard of. Swike knew that she should be able to get some good spying done while the abbey was in such a state, but she kept grabbing onto walls and chairs and other beasts for support every few moments. She was not well at all. 

_Snake_, she thought over and over again. _Snake, snake, snake, snake, sn…_

Swike realized that she didn't know where she was. She had been wandering aimlessly around the abbey, climbing many flights of stairs. She turned slowly in a circle, taking in her surroundings. _The floor below the attic._ Swike paused, letting this knowledge sink in. _I could see what Chinley does in his room in the attic_. Pushing away the mental image of a slithering snake, flicking its tongue out to taste the air, Swike found a staircase and walked up it into the attic. Chinley's door was slightly ajar, just as Lifil had left it. Swike approached the door confidently and had nearly flung it open when she heard faint scratching noises coming from inside the room. Carefully, Swike pushed the door open enough so that she could peer into the room. Sitting at the table which Swike had determined to be an art workstation was Chinley. He was carving something out of a chunk of wood. He obviously had no idea that a dibbun had been attacked and killed. Swike moved the door gently into its previous position and left, heading straight for Chinley's bedroom. It seemed like the next best thing to do.

The door to Chinley's bedroom was slightly open. Swike pondered at the fact that he never seemed to leave doors either closed or completely open. Placing her paw on the doorknob, she began to push the door open. There was a sloshing sound above her head. Swike looked up and then sprang away from the door. In the act of jumping away, she also gave the door an extra shove. A bucket full of water came smashing down, soaking the door and the floor around it. Some water splashed up onto Swike's legs, but not enough to hurt her disguise at all. Standing on the opposite side of the hallway from the door, Swike looked eagerly up and down the hall. Nobeast came running in response to the sound of the bucket falling. She doubted that anybeast was near enough to have noticed.

_A trap! I can't believe he set a trap!_ Swike approached the door again, splashing through the puddle of water. She shook her head. "No, not a trap," she whispered. "This place is too peaceful. This was supposed to be … a prank." She stuck her head into the room and examined it for any other pranks which she might set off. Seeing nothing suspicious, she opened the door all the way and splashed her way into the room. She walked along one side of the room and then the other, sifting through the stacks of paper and picking up and skimming through a few books. From what she could gather, the room was full of family trees and genealogies. "Chinley must be some sort of historian. Maybe he keeps track of all of the families around here and who's related to whom." Swike wasn't interested in such information. It probably wouldn't mean anything to Lord Koron, but she'd dutifully mention it in the report she planned to send that night. Swike shivered. She would also have to write about the snake in her report.

Taking her leave of the room, Swike closed the door until it was only a crack open, but there was no way she could undo the dropping of the bucket of water. After a bit of struggle, stepping on tip-paw ("I wish I weren't so short!"), she got the bucket back in position, but Chinley would know, even if the water had dried by his return, that somebeast had been in his room. Swike only hoped that he wouldn't look into it.

As she retreated from the room, Swike heard one of the bells being rung. It was only rung one time, a single peal which seemed to hang on the air. Though nobeast had told her what this meant, Swike could guess its meaning. The abbey was in mourning. A young soul had passed onto the dark forest today.


	19. The Day After

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Nineteen: The Day After**

Another day had come, but the abbey was different today. The sun still shone down and the wind still blew, the birds still sung in the forest and the River Moss still gurgled along its path, but the abbey was never to be the same again. The tragic and sudden death of the mouse dibbun, whose name Swike still found no need to remember, had sunk the abbeybeasts into a stupor that seemed unlikely to pass. So complete was the sorrow of the place that nobeast had attempted to rise for breakfast, not even the cooks. The abbey, with the sun peaking over its walls, remained silent. The bells were still.

Swike lay in her bed, taking in the silence around her. She had not acted as these goodbeasts this morning. She had risen again before daybreak and searched furiously for a message from the vermin army, but there had been no arrow in or around the bell tower. Returning to her room, she had attempted to take a short nap before she had to mingle with the Redwallers, but the place had been too silent, too still for anybeast to escape their consciousness and fall into the soft embrace of sleep.

So here she lay, waiting for time to start again.

* * *

A knock sounded on her door. Swike sat up in bed, stretching out stiff limbs. She glanced at the wall opposite the window, noting that the line of sunlight had moved considerably since the last time she had looked at it. 

_Must have fallen asleep. Odd, I don't remember falling asleep._

"Rosethorn?" asked a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

Swike cleared her throat. "I'll be a moment," she croaked. Slipping out of bed, she hurried over to her mirror. She had touched up her disguise last night and it still appeared to be in tact. Picking up the cup of water which she kept in the room, she drank down a few gulps, rinsing her mouth and throat of the residue which sleep left. "Come in," she chimed.

The door opened a crack and the face of an otter swam into view. "Do you need time to yourself?" asked Lifil. "If so, it's completely understandable. But, I thought you might be hungry. They should be serving lunch soon."

As if on cue, Swike's stomach rumbled. Swike shook her head. "I'll be alright. I've had enough time alone. And I am hungry, thank you."

Lifil smiled, but it was a strained smile. She turned then from the door and motioned with her paw for Swike to follow. Stepping out from her room, Swike silently followed the young otter down the flights of stairs that led into the Great Hall. As they neared the Hall, Swike registered a low buzzing noise. Arriving in the Hall, she recognized the buzzing to be the sound of many voices talking in whispers. Nobeast, not even the many dibbuns sitting close in their parents' laps, were speaking loudly. Most of them weren't speaking at all, either staring off into space or looking blankly at the food being set out by the sluggish cooks. Swike felt as if she were intruding on something very private. When she thought of the deceased mouse dibbun, she felt no pity, no sorrow.

She stood still, looking at the room, before realizing that Lifil had moved far ahead of her. Skipping quickly to follow, she joined Lifil and sat between the otter and Maren. The mousemaid grinned widely at Swike, who attempted to return the smile.

A bell gained everybeast's attention. Standing at the head of the table, Swike could barely see Abbess Pojam, looking glumly at her abbeybeasts, the handle of a small bell held tightly in her graying paw. The buzz of whispers died down and the room became quiet.

"Yesterday," began the Abbess, speaking in a soft voice which, none the less, carried to the farthest corners of the Hall, "this abbey was met with a tragedy the like of which I have never seen. Shelby was taken from us. Never again will we hear her laugh or see her playing in the orchards or splashing in the pond. She was a blessed soul, smart for her young age, inquisitive as all dibbuns are, and a general charm to be around."

Swike heard a few beasts crying. Glancing around the room, she could see tears in many faces. She wasn't the only beast looking around though. Everybeast kept shooting glances at a young couple not too far from where she was sitting. The two mice sat, holding each other, the maid with her face buried in the chest of her companion. Realizing that these must be the parents of the dibbun, Swike felt her throat constrict. Again, she saw the snake before her, two small paws sticking out of its mouth.

"But we cannot lose heart," continued Abbess Pojam, speaking a little stronger now. "Life will go on and things will eventually go back to normal. All I can ask of you is to do your best to go about your chores, but there will be no punishments for things which remain undone." The old mouse cleared her throat, her eyes on the anguished couple. "Rupert, Nassy. I want you to know that we are all here for you. Shelby will not be forgotten."

Rupert, his arms around his wife, simply nodded up at the Abbess. Nassy, without lifting her head, shuddered with a quiet sob. Everybeast remained silent.

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught Swike's attention. Lifil's father, the Skipper, was walking up toward the Abbess. He leaned down toward her ear as he came up alongside her and whispered something. The Abbess' eyes remained on Rupert and Nassy, but she nodded at the Skipper's words. As he stepped away from her, she turned to him.

"Thank you Skipper. Yes, you have my permission." With a sigh, the Abbess turned back toward the room. "Skipper has just told me that the holt stationed here is willing and ready to set out into Mossflower and search for the serpent dwelling so near to our beloved abbey. Anybeast else who is interested must see Skipper. I leave the decision up to him as to who may go. For everybeast else, I cannot stress enough the danger of venturing out on your own at this time. All excursions into Mossflower, until the serpent has been found and dealt with, must gain my permission. All gates will remain locked at all times and I ask for a few extra pairs of eyes to be watching our dibbuns until this danger has passed. And now, that's all I have to say." The mouse looked a little lost for a moment but she regained her composure. "You must all be hungry, please eat."

It was a meal unlike any Swike had ever experienced. The food was of the same quality that she had tasted at every meal within these walls, but somehow, she couldn't enjoy it. Every time that she wanted to grin at some new and delightful taste, she'd see a tear in somebeast's eye or hear a choked sob down the table. And too often, she could see the snake in her mind's eye. A few times, she even looked behind her, as if expecting the monstrosity to be slithering along the wall, ready to strike. Swike barely stopped herself from checking under the table twice, but she found that she couldn't move her footpaws, some irrational part of her mind ordering herself to remain still so that she wouldn't become the serpent's next victim. As the meal wound down to an end, Maren placed a paw on Swike's shoulder, causing her to jump.

"Rosethorn?" asked Maren, the concern evident in her voice.

Swike pressed her eyes closed, breathing hard. "I'm alright," she finally managed to say.

"That's good," said Maren, but she didn't sound convinced. "I want to help out today. I was going to gather some strawberries from the strawberry patch. We could even ask the cooks later to let us make something with them. Then we could take it to the dibbun nursery. I'm sure that'd make them all happy. Would you like to join me?"

Swike opened her eyes and looked up into Maren's kind face. She didn't understand how the mouse could be so positive and happy at such a time. She wasn't laughing, as Swike had become accustomed to her doing, but she was still jolly, still forever smiling. "Sure," said Swike. Maren's face lit up, and taking Swike's arm, she led her toward the kitchens. Lifil also took that time to get up from the table, but she didn't follow the mousemaids. Instead she walked off with her otter roommate, Jennet. Swike had become so used to having the young otter by her side that she couldn't take her eyes off the backs of the two youngsters until they had disappeared out the door into the grounds.

"Don't worry about Lifil and Jennet," said Maren hastily. "I bet they're going to fish in the pond or something, to help out the abbey. I'm no good at such things. I sink like a rock." She giggled good-naturedly and pushed Swike into the kitchen. The two of them picked up a basket apiece and then made their way outside and to the strawberry patch.

* * *

A few hours later, Swike and Maren lay beside the strawberry patch, laughing as two young beasts should. All seemed right with the world. The only other beasts that they could even see from their current position were Gyis and her older brother, collecting pears in the orchard. The two mice lay on their stomachs, laughing to each other at how silly squirrels looked running up and down trees, occasionally eating strawberries between laughs. 

"I used to _dream_ of doing this when I was a dibbun," said Maren, picking out another strawberry which she had deemed "unfit" for the strawberry pie they planned to make later. "But I'd swear that Ammiv can smell a dibbun a mile away from this strawberry patch and I never got close enough to live out my fantasies."

Swike giggled through a mouthful of strawberries. "But weren't you ever told that that's the point of growing up? You get to act like a young'un without getting in trouble for it."

"Haha! That's so great! Too true, Rosethorn, too true!"

"How many times do I have to tell you _NO_!" yelled a deep voice. The mousemaids jumped suddenly, disturbed from their gorging. They peered through the strawberries to their right to see who was yelling and what they were yelling about. Swike saw Gyis and her brother turn their heads to look as well, Gyis currently posed upside down on the side of the tree she was clinging to.

"But daddy! I'm more than old enough now! You've seen me with a slingshot, I know you have! I'm better than half your warriors!" Swike recognized this second, whining, voice immediately, and squinting through the leaves, she made out the young otter and the Skipper.

"No Lifil! I will not let you search for the serpent with the rest of the holt. It's too dangerous and you're too young and inexperienced."

"The only reason I'm inexperienced is because you never let me go anywhere or do anything! But even so, I still attacked that snake yesterday and without a real weapon and I won! None of the beasts you've picked to go with you have even seen the snake before. I've seen it with my own eyes! I can help you!"

"I know very well what a serpent looks like, young lady, and the Badgermum's description is enough to go on for my warriors. You're staying here and that's final!"

"This isn't fair! Why are you treating me like a child? _I'm not a child!_"

"You sure are throwing a tantrum just like a child." said the Skipper sharply, and turning from his daughter, he began to storm off toward the eastern wall.

"Jennet's only one season older than me!" screamed Lifil hoarsely after her father. "How come she can go but I can't? You're only making me stay behind because I'm your daughter! It's not fair!" She began running after her father, but if the set of his shoulders meant anything, Swike knew that he wouldn't change him mind any time soon. As the two otters moved out of earshot, silence fell in their wake. Gyis and her older brother picked up baskets full of pears and lugged them toward the abbey as if nothing had happened.

"Poor Lifil," whispered Maren where she lay at Swike's side. Swike turned to look at her. "She's spent her life trying to live up to her father," explained the mouse. "But everything she does just isn't good enough. She's too cheerful or too girly or too young. Then, when she plays around with the dibbuns or races Jennet across the pond, she's too old and too important of a beast to stoop down that low." Maren sighed deeply. "And when she trains with the other otters of the holt, her father gets mad at her for doing things that are too dangerous. There's no way for her to win, no matter what she does. She's really good with a slingshot too, she wasn't lying about that. Pretty good with a sword as well."

Swike remained silent. Glancing through the strawberry patch again, she saw that the otters were now too far away to see. Maren sat up. "We'd better get these strawberries inside now and work on that pie." She giggled a bit and Swike looked back at her. "And we'd better wash our paws in the pond first. If we show up like this, I bet the cooks will treat us like naughty little dibbuns, even if we aren't." She held out her paws for Swike to see. They were stained red. Swike looked down at her own paws. They were in a similar state. Grinning widely, the two friends carried strawberry-filled baskets to the pond, wet and dried their paws, and then trudged back toward the abbey, a day spent making and eating strawberry pie a bright light in their futures.


	20. Strawberry Pie

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Twenty: Strawberry Pie**

Swike balanced the pies carefully. Two of them rested on her open paws and the third was held precariously between her arms, resting against her chest as she struggled to keep it from tipping over to smother her chest and slide down her front. Her paws already felt as if they were way too close to a fire and she had no desire to find herself covered with steaming pie down her stomach. She craned her neck to look over her shoulder at Maren. The mousemaid was a few steps below her, carrying the other four pies. Swike didn't know how she did it. A pie on each paw and then another at the crook of each elbow. Swike knew she would have made a mess before even reaching the stairs in Maren's position.

Swike bumped her elbow against the wall and flinched, but thankfully none of her pies fell. She turned her head to look forward again. _I mustn't drop pies because I was being stupid and not looking where I was going._ A few steps later, she was on the floor with the dibbun nursery and shuffling out of Maren's way. The mouse reached the landing with a big grin on her face, her pies balanced easily.

She glided over to the correct door and used her footpaw to tap on it. "Open up!" she called cheerily. "We have a surprise!"

The door opened a crack and a badger's face peeked through the opening. "Oh, hello Maren!" said Ammiv. "Rosethorn!" she greeted, nodding in the girl's direction. Her eyes quickly took in the state of the two mice, laden down with seven pies. "How sweet! I'm assuming those are for us and you're not just here to drive us mad with the delicious aroma before you take them elsewhere." Her eyes twinkled and she opened the door wider. A few adults in the room quickly grabbed onto the more feisty dibbuns to keep them from charging through the open door and freedom. This was one day in which they would not be allowed outside.

Maren edged past Ammiv into the room saying "While it would be so tempting to pass the room up, I'm afraid these pies are for the dibbuns, Badgermum. And I guess you can have some too, since you're here."

Swike followed Maren into the room, smiling at how easily the old badger and young mouse teased each other. She kept her eyes on her pies though, feeling certain that the door wasn't open wide enough for her to pass. The next thing she knew, she was in the room and none of her pies had been harmed. Looking up, her eyes fell on Maren and then widened with shock. The other girl had found some way to put her four pies down on a table. Swike didn't even know how to begin; she didn't have a paw free.

"Umm," she said, flicking her eyes knowingly from the table and then to her laden arms and then back again to the table.

"Hehe, need some help Rosethorn?" asked Maren. She didn't wait for an answer though, and quickly grabbed two of the pies and set them on the table. A grin taking over her face, Swike placed the last pie down. Then she surveyed the room at large.

It was as if the sound had been turned on. A score of dibbuns were all wailing and calling out excitedly at the sight of the desserts before them. Two of them tore free of the paws restraining them and came running forward, only to be ensnared by Maren's arms. The mousemaid was laughing loudly at the young beasts, apparently entertained by their antics. "Not yet!" she called out. "One must have patience! At least wait for Rosethorn to cut it!"

At first, Swike was going to ask how she was supposed to cut the pies, but then the memory came back to her of an old cook shoving a kitchen knife into her chest pocket, nimbly avoiding the pie resting between Swike's arms. Fetching it out now, Swike began cutting slices of pie for everybeast. About half an hour later, she sat against the wall, holding a napkin with a single slice of pie upon it between her sticky paws, sighing with relief that everybeast had been served, a few of the adults and more well-behaved dibbuns currently tucking into a second helping.

"You looked so funny!" said Maren, coming to sit beside Swike. "It's like you'd never seen a hungry dibbun in your life. I about died of laughter when the Tricer twins wrapped themselves around your legs, begging for a pie to themselves! You should have just seen the look on your face!"

Swike took a huge bite of pie to forgo the need to say anything and just settled for grinning at this mouse. She really didn't know what to say. One line replayed in her head and the thought of it only made her nervous. _It's like you'd never seen a hungry dibbun in your life. _Of course, Swike hadn't, but she couldn't very well tell Maren so. According to the story she had told these Redwallers, less than half a season ago, she had helped take care of two young mice around the house, one a dibbun and the other only recently considered older than a dibbun and ready for chores of his own. Thankfully, Maren didn't seem to require any response from her companion and simply continued chatting.

"It'd be so hilarious to see you with them on a regular basis, but I guess children aren't your thing, are they? No matter, there's still tons to do around the abbey. Not the kitchens though, haha, I couldn't believe you'd never measured out flour before! I still don't know how you couldn't know that you have to use something straight, like a knife, to cut across the top of the measuring cup to make sure you have the exact amount of flour required." Swike continued eating her pie, silently wishing that she had cut herself a bigger slice now. She shifted her footpaw nervously from side to side, her eyes darting around the room to see if anybeast else was listening to what Maren was saying. It didn't seem like they were, not yet at least.

A paw shook in front of her face and Swike turned toward Maren again. "Did you hear what I just said?" asked the mouse. At first, Swike was afraid the girl would be mad at her, but the laugh in the corner of her eye told otherwise.

"I'm sorry, no I didn't."

"Hehe, you're something else Rosethorn! You always seem so alert of everything going on around you except what's happening right in front of your face. Anyway, I was asking what you wanted to do. I mean, you're older than me, right? And I was called to a meeting with the Abbess only a half-moon ago, telling me that I could start working around the abbey if I just found where I wanted to work. I've decided I want to work with you. I like you."

Swike stared at the mousemaid, open-mouthed. She didn't know which emotion was showing more on her face: shock or horror, but it couldn't be good.

Maren wasn't stupid and all of her attention was on Swike, but luckily she misinterpreted the reason for Swike's distress. "Oh, you don't have to start working immediately! I mean, you just moved here. You're still on 'guest' status as far as anybeast is concerned. But," Maren looked down at her paws, a blush coming to her cheeks, "I was … _hoping_ that you'd want to work with me. Just," she looked back up again, the eagerness of her eyes throwing Swike away, "think about it, alright?"

Swike nodded mutely. The next thing she knew, Maren was practically on top of her, giving her a fierce hug. Swike remained stiff in the embrace, fighting the reflex to throw the girl off, to counterattack.

Neither girl said anything for a while, creating an uncomfortable silence, until Swike stood up, mumbled something about a second slice of pie, and made her way toward the table. When she returned with her second helping, Maren was off in a corner, joining in with two round-eyed mice, whom Swike recognized as the Tricer twins, in a game of some sort. Swike leaned her back against the wall, holding her pie in a limp paw. She didn't really want any more. It was good, but a little too sweet for her tastes.

"You'm doan't loike the pie?" asked a voice off to Swike's left. She turned to view a kindly old mole. _She was with us when we went to the river yesterday_, thought Swike. It didn't feel like yesterday anymore. It felt like she had seen that snake ages ago.

A name floated up to the top of her mind. "No Teti," she said. "I like the pie just fine, though it is sort of sweet."

The mole chuckled and sat down beside her. "Well, Rosythorn, thart's because o' all they sugar in et. Makes it alla sweet." She pat Swike on the knee and then followed her gaze toward Maren and the two mice dibbuns. "Bur aye," she mused. "You sure'm do loike thart Maryen, doan't ye? She'm a good'un. Yurs she is! Cud do about anyfing she wants in this 'ere abbey. We all'us luv her. Doan't you fink so?" Teti turned toward Swike. The mouse nodded, her mouth too full of pie to respond.

* * *

That night, Swike had a bit of trouble writing up her report. For the longest time, she had nothing more than the words "Third Report" on the page, but finally she just wrote up everything she had learned in that day, biting her lip at how little it was. 

The most important knowledge that she could pass on to Lord Koron was that of the serpent search party. Skipper had gathered together many beasts by the end of the day, and an hour before sunset, they had finally set off, carrying five days worth of food and water for the journey. Swike missed seeing them off, since she was down in the kitchen helping Maren to wash up the dirty pie pans, but Lifil, straight-faced, filled the two mousemaids in.

"About two otters for every mouse or squirrel," Lifil had said, obviously trying to appear unconcerned about the whole affair. "Fa-Skipper said that they planned on heading east till they hit the River Moss and then splitting up." Swike knew what Lifil had almost said. _Fa_ had nearly been _father_, but the young ottermaid had quickly corrected herself, calling her father by his title, not his association to herself. Lifil then cleared her throat and took up a pie pan to help the mice out, though it seemed that she just needed to be doing something with her paws. As she began to soak her pan in soapy water, she continued. "Half the party will be going upstream to gather more of the otter holt stationed there, the other half will head south, downstream, toward where the serpent was last seen heading. Hopefully, both parties will join up together by tomorrow night, so that they can search for the serpent as one. There might be a chance that there is more than one snake in Mossflower, so they have to be careful."

Maren and Swike had shared a knowing look behind Lifil's back then. _Poor Lifil!_ Seemed to be what Maren's eyes were saying.

After relaying Skipper's plan to Koron in her report, Swike felt alright about it. Many of Redwall's warriors were currently in Mossflower, but their forces were all far to the southeast of the army, so she foresaw little chance of the army being discovered prematurely.

Finishing her report, Swike chose an arrow and slipped the rolled up papers inside. She crept downstairs and then outside. Her third report was sent off as effortlessly as the first two had been, but she still felt empty inside. She would have expected a response by now. Just as Swike was turning to leave though, she caught sight of a black shape, blotting out the stars above the treeline. _Crow_, she thought. With a smile on her face, she reentered the abbey. Whether or not Koron had received her other reports, at least she knew that he would have this one, and he would know, by the title of it, that it was the third.

* * *

Swike awoke before dawn. She was well-rested, since she hadn't really gotten up until noon of the day before, so she took her candle and went in search of a response from Lord Koron. Within moments of lighting her candle in the bell tower, she caught sight of an arrow on the floor. Picking it up, she inspected it in the pool of light given off by her candle. It was, indeed, one of the arrows used to house messages, and even though it had been shot into a stone room, it appeared undamaged. She'd be able to use it again. Without opening up the arrow, she blew out her candle and hastened out of the tower. She would read her instructions in the privacy of her own room. 

After reaching her room, Swike relit her candle and jammed her chair under the doorknob to guard against being interrupted. Then, she carefully pulled the two halves of the arrow apart. A roll of paper fell upon her bed, already unrolling itself before hitting the covers. Swike unrolled the parchment the rest of the way and began reading the note, written in Naysta's scratchy print, quickly, the knot in her stomach tightening the further she read.

_First correspondence to Swike the rat, master of disguise and master spy of Lord Koron._

_I have been greatly displeased by your performance. What do you think you're doing? Making friends with nurses and nursemaids, stuffing your face full of all sorts of food, taking babies on trips through the woods, and then, this latest venture: making and eating strawberry pies! What are you, a rat or a mouse, a spy or a maid? The maps are useful, as are the lists of important beasts, but that's the only spying you've done. I order you to spy for me! If you don't start feeding good information to me, then I'll send Raynat in there to cut your throat and take over your job! Why haven't you gone anywhere useful? Are you so dumb that you can't figure out what's useful and what's not? Well, I'll make it easy for you. This is what I need for you to get: how many beasts are there in and around Redwall, how many young beasts, old beasts, dibbuns, fighters, non-fighters? How big are the different gates, how many beasts can fit through each one, how easy would it be to open them in the dark while the abbeybeasts sleep, is there any way into Redwall other than the gates, are there any tunnels which come up somewhere outside the walls? What information can you find in the gatehouse, how have the Redwallers fought wars in the past, how do they always win? How big is the armory, how many weapons per fighter, how many stones and arrows for slingshots and bows, what shape are the weapons in? What else can you find out about this Chinley character, what is he doing up in his attic, is it only genealogy and arts and crafts? And finally, what do the most important beasts look like? I know you can draw, so put your drawing abilities to good use. I need an updated drawing of yourself, so that the vermin of my army will recognize you without cuts and bruises, and then I need a picture of the abbess, skipper, foremole, and the most talented warriors._

_Timing is short and you must work faster. Stop making friends and start making progress! We have made one thousand grappling hooks and are in the process of constructing the second of four siege towers. I want the army to be able to move against Redwall as soon as everything is ready, but I must have the information I require first._

_Signed, Lord Koron._


	21. Portraits and Tapestries

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Twenty-one: Portraits and Tapestries**

Swike felt pulled between panic, despair, and urgency. She _had_ to deliver a good report to Lord Koron this night; she had no other choice. With this thought on her mind, she skipped her usual dawn nap and became one of the first beasts at the breakfast table, called by the morning bells. When Maren stumbled sleepily into the room, her eyes fell on Swike and she marched over to the girl.

"You're up early," she said with a smile. Swike just nodded. "What's that?" asked Maren, pointing at the object on the table before Swike.

"It's my journal," said Swike, looking down at the notebook as well. "I keep my sketches and diary entries in here. I just felt like drawing today."

"Oh that's right," said Maren, hastening to sit down. "Lifil said you were a good artist. Can I see some of the things you've drawn?"

"Sure," said Swike, pushing her journal up to her face so that she could crack the book open without anybeast else seeing what was inside. "But only a few of the drawings. Most of them are just sketches and I'd rather that nobeast saw them." Finding a picture of trees overshadowing a stream, Swike let the book open wider and set it down on the table.

"Ooo! That's so pretty! If you can draw beasts as well as you draw landscapes, you'll give Chinley a run for his money!"

Swike blinked as she heard, again, the name of the old squirrel in the attic, but she simply brought her journal back to her nose and flipped to a picture of two moles. As she let Maren look at it, she asked the question on her mind. "What do you know about Chinley?"

Maren chuckled. "Now there's a mysterious beast! I don't think anybeast 'cept Haley, and maybe the Abbess, know much of anything about Chinley. Badgermum told me once that he was a loner even when he was young. Never played much outside. She said she used to find him in the oddest places though; he'd find his way into cupboards and cabinets that everybeast was certain had been locked before he crawled inside. And he'd usually be found with some handicraft or other in his little paws. Even when he comes downstairs for meals nowadays, you can't expect much from him. He's just so quiet, reserved, you know? About once a season, he gives one of his crafts away, either to one of the older beasts who knew him from his younger days, or to the abbey as a whole. I could show you some of them, if you'd like. Most have been stored either in Cavern Hole or the gatehouse over the years."

"I'd like that," said Swike, lying down her book to show Maren the picture of her "baby brother" who had been drowned.

* * *

Swike continued asking questions about Chinley of whoever would speak with her that day, but Maren was right in assuming that nobeast knew much about him. The two mousemaids spent the first part of the morning examining many of his works of art. He had done many small sculptures which had been set up in Cavern Hole along one wall. Swike could see that his tastes varied. Some of wood, others stone, still others metal. A few of the sculptures were easily identifiable: a mouse sitting in a chair, a sparrow preening its feathers, a painted wooden cake that looked so good that Swike wanted to cut herself a slice. Other sculptures were completely unrepresented though. They looked like a hodgepodge of shapes and textures. Most of these sculptures held no value in Swike's eyes, though one caught her interest. Somehow, Chinley had constructed a metal obstruction which balanced on a thin, metal rod which slimmed to a point at the top. The balancing piece of metal could even be given a push so that the entire object spun in a circle. Maren finally had to drag Swike away, reminding her that Chinley had more artwork in the gatehouse. 

Clouds of dust rose as the two mousemaids walked into the old gatehouse. Swike's paws were itching to crack open a few of the scrolls and books around her, but she couldn't with Maren at her side. Instead she simply tagged along as Maren walked her around, pointing up at painting after painting and drawing after drawing hanging on the walls. Swike lost interest quickly as she thought of the portraits which she herself would have to draw that day. Within no time, she convinced Maren to follow her outside where she planned on starting her first drawing.

* * *

Swike shifted her footpaw nervously. 

"Oh come on!" said Maren. "I _know_ she'll say yes. What are you worried about?" With that, Maren knocked on the door.

After a short pause, the door opened creakily. "Yes dear? How may I help you?" The Abbess' smile seemed to create wrinkles on top of her wrinkles.

Maren began bobbing up and down on her heels with excitement. "Oh, Rosethorn wants to draw a portrait of you! Can she? Can she please?"

"A portrait of _me_?" The Abbess grinned. "Little old _me_? And what have I done to deserve such an honor?" Swike sighed inwardly. The Abbess was pleased, maybe even genuinely flattered. The elderly mouse opened the door wider and motioned for the two mousemaids to enter. "Do I need to sit still for you? My old joints don't hold as well as they used to." She sat down in a plump chair near the window.

"No, I can draw you even if you're moving around. I'll probably look more at my drawing than you once I get started anyway."

"That's good dear. But please, don't make me look so old and wrinkly. I do have my pride." The mouse smiled.

"I'll do my best Abbess." Swike sat down on a wooden chair in the corner. Maren sat down beside her but kept jumping up at odd moments, and as Swike drew, she kept up an animated conversation with the old mouse before them, often reassuring the Abbess that Swike was an exceptional artist and had even draw a self-portrait only that morning. Swike grinned as she picked up Maren's obvious hints that she wouldn't mind a portrait done of herself.

* * *

Over dinner that evening, Swike felt exhausted. She stared straight ahead, but she didn't see or hear anything around her. She just sat without moving, except for her writing paw which she continually flexed. She had never drawn so much in her life, and she knew she still had a bit more artistry to do as well as her report to write up. _At least I can use the excuse that I'm tired since I got up so early and they'll let me go to bed early. I can start on my report right after dinner instead of waiting a few more hours._ She yawned hugely. 

A paw shook in front of Swike's face. The spy turned to look at the mouse beside her, blinking sleepily.

"You look like you're going to fall right to sleep in your deeper 'n ever pie," remarked Maren. "If you're not terribly hungry, you can go to bed now."

Swike's stomach felt like an empty pit, but it was more important for her to finish her report and send it off than it was for her to eat. "I'm not hungry," she lied, "just tired." She got up and made her way to the stairs. Nobeast hindered her or asked her why she was turning in so early. Before she knew it, she was standing in her room.

"If only I could splash some water in my face," she mumbled. She yawned as she began rifling through her journal to the drawings she had done earlier that day. She took out a blank page and lay it over the drawing of the Foremole, beginning a quick outline sketch of it. She had already done a sketch of herself and the Abbess to fill back in later. She had told everybeast whom she had drawn that day that they couldn't have their portraits until she put the finishing touches on them.

Swike sighed heavily as she worked on the mole's sketch. This drawing had been particularly hard to do. The Foremole had been more than a little embarrassed when Swike asked if she could drawn him and the entire time he kept blushing and covering up his face with his paws. Still, Swike had managed to finish the portrait, and when she had shown it to the mole, he beamed with pride, saying he couldn't wait to show his wife. "He'll have to wait at least a few days," Swike mused aloud.

Finishing the sketch, she set the actual drawing aside. It would be rolled up with the others to be sent to Lord Koron. Swike pulled out her drawing of the Skipper and a clean piece of parchment. This drawing was the least life-like in appearance. She would have to apologize profusely in her report for its poor quality, but it was the best she could do based on memory alone. As she sketched out the outlines of the otter's face onto her separate piece of parchment, Swike was grateful that she was such a quick artist. It would have been impossible for her to pull off this feat otherwise.

As the sun began to set, Swike lit a candle and got to work on her actual report. She didn't have nearly as much to say as she should have after receiving such a fierce reprimand, but her excuse was in the amount of time it took to draw up the four portraits. Mostly, she sent apologies and promises in her report, but at the moment she was too tired to be overly nervous about how mad Koron would be with her.

With every intention of exploring the tunnels under the abbey building and sitting up for a few hours in the gatehouse the next day, Swike rolled up her report and portraits. She stuffed them into an arrow, grabbed up her bow, and left the room.

Stepping outside, the cool breeze helped to wake Swike up a bit. Really, just holding her bow helped her to open her eyes wider. She loved shooting and she had never once shot an arrow mid-yawn and didn't plan on doing so today. Swike climbed to the walltop and found her oak tree in the dark. She shot off her fourth report, watching it fly away from her into shadow.

Unstringing her bow unconsciously, Swike stood where she was, her eyes and ears narrowed onto the huge tree. She heard the wings first and then she saw a dark shape rising above the trees. Her report was on its way and a response would probably be winged down to an archer before morning.

Swike started. _An archer! Why hadn't I thought of this before?_ Of course, Swike knew that Lord Koron's response had been delivered to her that morning via an archer, but she hadn't thought about who that archer might be. _Somewhere out there, there's an archer, right now._ Swike squinted into the night. _Where? The wood? Or maybe the ditch._ Swike began walking across the wall toward the northwestern corner. She gazed out across the road but nobeast was visible down below. _I probably know the archer,_ thought Swike, biting her lip. _I spent time with them when I was with the army. I spent time with Riss._ Swike could see the tall rat in her mind's eye. Her actual eyes scanned the ground again, hoping against hope to see the archer who would deliver all of her commands.

_I'm being silly,_ Swike thought sudden, heading for the nearest set of stairs. _There's no reason for me to be thinking of Riss anyway, no reason at all._ Annoyed with herself now, Swike quickly made her way toward the abbey building. _I'm too tired to be thinking about anything unnecessary. I still have to wake up before dawn tomorrow._

_Riss…_

Swike squeezed her eyes shut as she entered the Great Hall. She didn't know what was wrong with her that she was having such thoughts. She had a job to do! Opening her eyes again, Swike began charging across the Great Hall. Her thoughts were more on Riss and the fact that she shouldn't even be thinking of him than on where she was going though, and she didn't see the beast standing in the room until she was on top of them.

Quickly, Swike jumped back, but it was too late. She had knocked the beast over; the creature was lying on the ground. As they stirred and sat up, Swike saw just how suspicious she would appear. She had been out in the grounds after dark; she now held a bow but no arrows. In a panic, Swike held her bow behind her back with one paw, but it was a useless action. Anybeast would see she was hiding something, and even in the dark Hall, they would most likely see what that something was.

The creature at Swike's feet began rubbing their eyes as if they'd been asleep. _Otter_, thought Swike. She blinked in surprise.

"Lifil? What are you doing here, now?" She hadn't seen Lifil all day. She had assumed that the young otter was off sulking somewhere since she hadn't been able to accompany the other warriors in pursuit of the serpent the day before.

Lifil glanced up into Swike's face and then looked at the wall. Swike found the otter's actions so odd that she followed the maid's eyes to the wall as well. Both beasts were right in front of the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. The moonlight coming in through the stained glass windows on the opposite side of the Hall touched neither beast, but it fell bright across the mouse in the tapestry.

The hairs on the back of Swike's neck stood up.


	22. Warning

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Twenty-two: Warning**

"Rosethorn?" asked Lifil. The otter sounded anxious, frightened. Swike tore her eyes away from the mouse in the tapestry, glowing in the moonlight, and stared down at the otter. It took all of her self-control to keep from stumbling backwards. In Lifil's right paw lay Martin's sword. Swike turned again toward the tapestry. She gazed upon the fearsome mouse in its weave, half expecting him to no longer grip his sword, but not a thread of the tapestry had changed. Swike lifted her head to look above. The two hooks remained in which the blade had rested, far higher than anybeast could reach or jump, but the sword was no longer hanging above the tapestry.

"Rosethorn?" Lifil whispered again. Swike turned from the tapestry, hunching her shoulders up in an effort to block out the visage of Martin. Her heart seemed to thump within her ears as she looked down upon the otter. _How could I have not seen the sword before? How did she get the sword to begin with?_ "Something's happening," said Lifil. The otter's eyes were wide; she was shaking.

_What am I supposed to do?_ Swike's mind was racing, but she was tired and hungry, and this latest shock had done nothing to make her feel any more rested. _I'm a mouse; my name is Rosethorn. What am I supposed to do?_ Swike crouched down, set her bow on the floor, and wrapped her arms around the young otter.

"I have to see the Abbess," whispered Lifil. "Something's happening. I don't understand what, but something big is happening."

Swike nodded and then held Lifil away from herself at arm's length. "The Abbess is a very intelligent old mouse. She'll know what to do." Swike almost didn't know what she was doing or why, but she understood one thing: Lifil was in shock, she was scared. _It's best to go along with whatever she says. Maybe she hasn't even noticed that I have my bow with me; maybe she doesn't even think it's odd that I'm up and about at this time of night._

Swike's words had an instant affect on the otter. Lifil stopped shaking and was on her paws before Swike could blink. Next, she was sprinting for the stairs, cradling Martin's sword and scabbard in front of her. Swike grabbed up her bow and ran after the otter, needing to hear of what had upset her so badly.

She only caught up with Lifil at the Abbess' bedroom door. The otter was banging upon it and calling out that there was an emergency. Within moments, the door sprang open and Lifil ran inside.

"Lifil! What is it?"

"Martin the Warrior came to me, in a dream," spat out Lifil.

The Abbess sat down in her chair, hard. "Now Lifil, this is nothing to be joking about. You know how serious that would be."

"But I'm not joking! Look!" Lifil held out the sword for the Abbess to see. The elderly mouse began to stand up but then sank back down in her seat again, a paw to her mouth.

"But how'd you get that?" she whispered.

"Martin gave it to me," Lifil insisted.

The Abbess stared wide-eyed at the sword for a moment and then let her eyes sweep the room, as if she were looking for proof, expecting perhaps to see Martin in the flesh. She saw Swike standing in the doorway instead. "Is this true?" she asked.

Swike didn't know what to say or think. She leaned on the doorpost, holding her bow out of sight with one paw. "I found her in front of the tapestry," she admitted. Then, as it dawned on her, she added, "I think she may have been sleepwalking."

The Abbess' mouth opened wide.

"He told me there was trouble," said Lifil, trying to get the mouse's attention again. "But I didn't understand." Lifil's face scrunched up in concentration. "It was a riddle, I think. I remember it, what he said."

The old mouse seemed to snap into action. She made her way to her desk and pulled out a quill and some parchment. "Tell me Lifil, tell me as well as you can remember it."

The otter closed her eyes, gripping the handle of the sword with both paws. Then, in a strong voice, a voice which eerily reminded Swike of the voice which Naysta used when speaking of her visions, Lifil slowly recited.

"_There is one among you who is not your friend,_

_Who would bring you to a bloody end,_

_And to the north, there lies in wait,_

_For Redwall, a horrible, gruesome fate,_

_The time is short, you must prepare,_

_Take up the sword, maiden fair,_

_You are the next whom I choose,_

_Go, tell all of this news."_

Silence greeted Lifil's words. The Abbess wiped her brow, holding out the piece of parchment with her hurried script. "Did I record it right?"

Lifil read over the riddle and nodded. "That's when he gave me the sword," she said, pointing at the line which began _Take up the sword_. "Abbess?" Lifil began to shake again, as she had done when Swike first found her. "What do you think is in the north? If I need a sword…"

"I don't know," said the Abbess, "but if Martin has told us that the time is short, then we must work quickly. Rosethorn?"

Swike stood up straighter and tried to wipe the horrified look off her face. She had understood what Lifil had said, at least, she had understood the first part well enough. "Yes?" she asked.

"Please, go wake Gyis. We will need her to ring the bells."

Swike was gone in the next second, charging up the nearest flight of stairs. She stopped by her room first, to drop off her bow, and then she sprinted down the hall toward Lifil's bedroom. The door was open. Swike found the two beds on the left side of the room empty, one tidily made up (that bed must be Jennet's) and the other with the covers half off the bed (obviously Lifil's bed). On the right, in the bed nearest the door, the squirrel Gyis lay asleep.

"Gyis," said Swike, breathing heavily from her sprint. The maid's eyes sprang open instantly. _Light sleeper_, Swike thought. "The Abbess needs you, now. The bells."

The squirrel needed no further urging than this. She was up and out of the room before Swike could effectively regain her breath. In the last bed, Maren began to sit up, rubbing her eyes with the back of one paw. "Rosethorn?" she asked. "What's going on?"

_What _is_ going on?_ Swike thought. _Martin's dead. He can't visit beasts in their dreams. Sure, it'd be possible for Redwallers to dream about him, but it wouldn't really be him. It couldn't be._ She felt the knot in her stomach tighten. _But there's no way that Lifil could know… That riddle… It spoke of the army; it gave their location away. And … it spoke of me. The very first line had to have been about me. There's no way, absolutely no way that Lifil could know that._

"Rosethorn?" Maren was right in front of Swike now. The mouse reached out and put her arms around the spy. _I'm shaking!_ Swike stopped shaking in reaction to the hug. The last time she could remember being held, it had been Swifcut's arms around her, and it felt just as good this time as it had that time, even if the hug reminded her of her brother whom she realized she missed terribly. "There there," said the mouse. "Now, what's got you all shook up? What's going on? You just told Gyis to see the Abbess, didn't you? I was only half awake, but I think that's what you said."

Swike gulped before speaking. "Yes. Lifil said that Martin visited her, in her dreams." Maren, still with her arms around Swike, stiffened up. Slowly, she let go of Swike and took a step back.

"Now?" she whispered. "I never thought I'd live to see anything like…" she didn't finish whatever she'd been about to say, but Swike could guess. According to the Redwallers, Martin visited them in times of trouble. Surely, this was a time of trouble, but Swike had been certain that the army would have the element of surprise. Now that was lost. _I have to warn them_, she thought. _And tonight! I have to send another report, now!_

"This is all too much," she said, thinking fast. "I don't know how much more excitement I can stand. I need to get back to bed. Maybe I'll wake up and this will all have been a dream."

Maren nodded. "Yes, go back to bed. I know how tired you were." She gave Swike an odd look. "But how'd you find out about this? You went to bed early. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I … woke up. I went downstairs to the kitchens, to get a glass of water. When I was coming back, I saw Lifil, standing in front of the tapestry."

"Oh," said Maren. It seemed as if a shadow had crossed her face. "Then it must really be true, if she was in front of the tapestry." Swike backed out of the room then, leaving the mousemaid to her dark thoughts. She made her way to her room, relit her candle, and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment.

Within a few moments, she had explained as well as she could what had happened. She didn't understand it though. The Redwallers' belief that their founder had remained their guardian through the years was utter nonsense. It was nothing more than superstition, just like the vermin beliefs that whatever a seer said of the future must be true. Still, whether or not Martin had made contact with Lifil that night from the dark forest, the fact remained that the abbey now had knowledge of a threat from the north and even, if they chose to pursue it, of a spy within their midst.

Swike was about to roll up her report when something new occurred to her. What if Gyis remained in the bell tower for the rest of the night? Any arrow shot through the tower's western window would not go unnoticed by the Redwallers then, and if Swike was unable to get the arrow away from them before they noticed what it held, then they would know for certain that there was a spy in Redwall. They might even suspect that she was the spy, since she was such a recent addition to the abbey.

At the bottom of the page, Swike wrote out these concerns. After a moment of panic, she identified the next best place for her commands to be sent.

_Have an archer shoot any further reports onto the roof of the gatehouse. The Redwallers will be less likely to notice an arrow coming from the south._

Swike had no idea how she was going to fetch reports from atop the gatehouse, but it would be better for the responses to go completely unread than for the Redwallers to have the chance to read them. She rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into an arrow. Shooting from the north wall was out of the question now. She could hear lots of movement below her as the abbey came alive and she had spied Gyis sprinting across the grounds only moments before. She would have to make this shot from her bedroom window.

Swike restrung her bow and put out the light of her candle. Her room was on the western side of the abbey, but it was near the northern end, for which she was thankful. Swike sat down on the windowsill and began to lean out, tensing her legs to keep her grip on the windowsill while she held her bow. The last thing she needed was to fall to her death out the window. Even in such an awkward position, she drew the bow easily. She leaned back slightly, pointing her bow above the treeline so that her arrow would fly far. Her arms began to shake with the tension of holding the bow as she aimed. Silently, she reprimanded herself for acting so poorly in her shooting. Lack of sleep and even such an uncomfortable position were no excuse, not for an archer of her talents. She forced her arms to still their shaking before focusing again on her aim. She inhaled slowly. Holding her breath, she let go of the bowstring. As she exhaled and clung to the side of the window with her free paw, she watched the path of the arrow. It caught in the moonlight as it cleared the abbey wall. She knew that it wouldn't find its mark in any tree, but with luck, it would be spied by a crow and taken north before morning. As Swike pulled herself back into the window and fell, exhausted, onto her bed, one of the bells began to ring. Its frantic song continued to peal for a long time. Panic rose in Swike's chest. The Redwallers, and every part of Mossflower in hearing distance, knew that danger was near.


	23. Preparations

**Part Two: Redwall**

**Chapter Twenty-three: Preparations**

Swike opened her eyes and breathed in a refreshing breath. She began to stretch out her limbs as she lay on the disheveled bed, her eyes resting on the wall opposite the window, alight with indirect sunshine.

Swike sat bolt upright, stuffing her left paw into her mouth to muffle her own unbidden scream. _What time is it? Oh my, what time is it?_ she thought frantically, turning her face toward the window through which she could view the daylight. The shadow of the abbey building still stretched out away from the window, toward the west, so it wasn't yet noon, but that brought Swike no comfort. _Was a report sent to me? Did the abbeybeasts notice an arrow? Have I been found out?_

Swike fought her way out of her tangle of covers and she stumbled over to her mirror, swiping the cloth off of it. _I look like a mouse who just woke up,_ she thought, laughing a bit at herself. The laugh cut off instantly. _What am I doing? I'm acting like I've gone half-mad or something._ Unconsciously, she began to make adjustments and touch-ups to her disguise. Too soon, she finished her work. A choked sob erupted from the back of her throat and she leaned forward, clutching the seat of the chair which her mirror rested on. _They've read my report, my commands from Lord Koron_, she thought. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew it was true. _They probably spent an hour or two trying to figure out who the note was for, but they must know by now that it was for me. They're coming for me even now._ In a state of panic, Swike turned toward her door. It seemed to grow large in her sight, a looming enemy.

A knock sounded upon the door. Swike started, falling over from her kneeling position. She began scooting back toward the wall, looking for another escape from the room. All she could see was the window, but her room was on the third floor.

"Rosethorn? Are you awake?"

All the tense energy seemed to seep out of Swike's body. "Yes Maren," she said.

The door opened and Maren peeped around it to see Swike sitting next to the wall. "Rosethorn, are you alright? Did you fall over?" She came forward. The kind mouse helped Swike up and began to dust her off. "You weren't at breakfast, but I thought I'd let you sleep. We all had a tough night last night, didn't we?"

_Does she know? Is she trying to trick me?_ Swike looked deep into Maren's eyes. _No, this mousemaid knows nothing of tricks or treachery. She knows nothing about my true identity or else it would show on her face._

Maren began to look around the room. "It looks like a storm went through here," she commented, reaching down to pick up the cloth which Swike usually used to cover her mirror. "That's a really nice mirror," she said, motioning toward Swike's chair. "I didn't know you had anything like it."

"My mother's," said Swike hurriedly. She had worked out explanations for all of her possessions long ago, in case her things were ever examined.

Maren set the, now folded, cloth on the chair, in front of the mirror which rested against the chair's back. Then she walked over to Swike's bed and sat down. "What do you know, about what happened last night?" she asked. "I know you're new to the abbey, so you're probably confused."

Swike was looking around at her room, since Maren had commented on its disorder, so she didn't get to see the look on Maren's face as the mouse spoke, but her voice had sounded sincere enough. Just as she was about to look at the mouse though, she saw something which made her blood run cold. Her instincts as an archer took over, and without thinking about what Maren might think, she strode over to her window, grabbed her bow from where it rested in the corner, and unstrung it. She turned then toward the mouse. Maren was giving her an odd look. "I can't believe I did that," said Swike. "Bows should never be left strung when they're not being used. I don't know how long it was like that."

Maren nodded. "I understand about bows. I'm not nearly as good a warrior as Lifil or Jennet, but whenever I do anything with weapons, I like to use bows and arrows." She looked down at the paws folded in her lap. "I think the time to fight might soon be upon us," she said quietly. Her eyes began to water, but no tears fell. "I don't like fighting," she said.

"I'm not confused," said Swike suddenly. Maren looked up into her face, startled. "In answer to your question earlier. I'm not confused. Lifil told me about Martin the Warrior and about the different bell rings when I got here."

"Oh," said Maren. After a short pause, Maren sprang up and began to wipe her eyes. "I'm expected below. I promised to take Gyis her breakfast, but I thought I'd check on you first."

"I'll come with you," said Swike.

"Thanks Rosethorn." Maren smiled. "I always feel better when you're around."

* * *

After a hurried breakfast in the kitchens, Swike helped Maren to carry some food and drink out to the bell tower. So far, nobeast had said or done anything to Swike to confirm her belief that they knew she was a spy, but she remained edgy. 

Up in the bell tower, Gyis lay on a thin, straw mattress in the corner. She awoke as the two young beasts entered the room. "Good morning Maren," she said. "Is that breakfast?" Her face brightened and she dug happily into the food set before her. Swike's eyes swept the room. There was no arrow. She remained quiet as Maren and Gyis chatted and then helped Maren to pack the dirty dishes away once Gyis had finished eating.

"Thank you, Rosethorn," said the squirrel. Swike gave Gyis a surprised look. "Thank you for waking me up. Quick action is important in times like this. Abbess tells me that one of the owls in Mossflower flew up north last night, to see what was there. I don't know if he's come back yet or not, but whatever is coming, we should be prepared before it comes."

Swike just nodded. She was happy to leave. Gyis made her feel uncomfortable. The young squirrelmaid was smart, maybe too smart.

* * *

Swike stood in the training grounds after lunch, waiting for her turn at the archery targets. During lunch, she had finally calmed down and begun to come up with a plan of action. She turned to Brandy, a tough hedgehog who seemed to be in charge of the abbey warriors in Skipper's stead. "Miss Brandy," she called. The hedgehog turned at her name and regarded the young mouse with a raised eyebrow. "I was wondering, marm, if I could walk along the walltop." Swike pointed toward the north wall nearby. Sentries were walking back and forth along its pathway. 

"Humph," said Brandy.

"I want to help," said Swike. "I'm a good shot with a bow and I have a good eye."

"You're just a little thing," said Brandy, dismissing Swike. "Maybe when you're older and you can back up your words with evidence."

Swike squinted up at the hedgehog angrily. "I know I'm short," she said. "But I'm not so young and it's been awhile since I've been a child." Just then, the mouse in front of her finished his turn at the target she'd been waiting on. Swike sat her own bow, matched to her height, to one side. She picked up a long bow a head taller than her, stepped on one end with her right footpaw, and braced the bow to string it. _Actions speak louder than words_, she thought, aware that Brandy was watching her. A second later, Swike's bow was strung. Swike pulled over a bench that was used to hold materials or to sit beasts waiting or watching, and she cleared a space on it to stand. Then she climbed up, ignoring the laughs of the creatures who had stopped to watch the short mouse shoot a bow way too big for her. "Arrow, please," she said.

"Here you go Rosethorn." Swike blinked at Lifil, more embarrassed than ever to see that the tall otter didn't need to look up, even though Swike stood on the bench. _I didn't remember Lifil being out here._ Swike notched her arrow into place, drew back the string, and looked down the shaft at the target. "The tree behind it," said Lifil in an encouraging voice. "the branch that juts out to the left." Swike's eyes looked beyond the targets. The tree Lifil was indicating was half again as far away and a much better target for this huge bow. Swike let go of the string, barely giving herself enough time to aim, but she was making a point, and taking forever to aim would weaken her message.

Brandy whistled. A few other beasts began to clap.

"I wish I could do that," said Maren, beginning to string her own, much smaller, bow behind Swike.

"If Rosethorn wants to be a sentry," said Lifil to Brandy. "Then she will be a sentry." The young otter, Swike realized, was even a little taller than the hefty hedgehog. "Come on Rosethorn."

Swike followed after Lifil, but she unstrung the large bow first and picked up her own bow and quiver of arrows. As she passed by Brandy, she barely heard her say, "Martin, what have you done to us?"

After a "tour" of the battlements, Swike felt much better. She had spotted an arrow on the roof of the gatehouse, and all Swike had to do was ask and Lifil granted her her wish immediately. She would have the first night watch, standing right above the main gate beside the gatehouse.

* * *

Halfway through dinner, the bells began to ring. Everybeast stopped eating to listen. One bell, then the second, and then the first again. Friend. A moment later, a young squirrel who Swike recognized instantly as one of the "runners" positioned throughout the grounds to get information to the abbey quickly if anything should be learned came barging into the Great Hall. "An owl!" he panted. "An owl just landed by the pond! Bleeding." 

It seemed like half of the beasts in the Hall all stood up and tried to get through the door at the same time, but the Abbess was ahead of all of them, despite her old age. When Swike approached the pond, a huge brown owl, his feathers ruffled and blood oozing out of recent wounds on his wings, was talking with the old mouse.

"Attacked by crows!" he cried. "So many crows! Barely got away. An army, camp in the north. Thousands! Thousands of them! All vermin, and so many crows!"

* * *

When Swike left to go to her watch, everything was quiet. There was barely any evidence of the uproar earlier. Every door and gate had been checked and checked again to make sure it had been locked. Many of them had also been braced and reinforced against an attack. A troop of six warriors had left at once to find Skipper and the beasts at his command to bring them back to the abbey. There was a chance that the otter hadn't heard the bells from the night before and that was why he hadn't shown up during the day. Many other beasts begged permission to go further abroad to bring back more help, but the Abbess forbade it, wishing to keep as many able-bodied creatures within the abbey walls as she could. Nobeast knew for sure when the attack would come and they all feared that Skipper might have to fight his way back into the abbey. 

Swike approached the sentry on the wall to relieve him. Once she saw him entering the abbey, she snuck off the wall and slipped into the gatehouse. She had worked out how to get the arrow earlier. Climbing into the attic, she pushed her way over to the small window. After a few minutes of struggle, Swike swore under her breath. The window was rusted shut. She scanned the rest of the attic, but there was no other way outside from here. Resigning herself to having to scale the outside of the gatehouse, she went back outside and walked around the building until she was between it and the wall.

_I climbed a tree; I can climb a wall._ This was what she thought, but it proved to be harder to do than she had anticipated. By the time she sat upon the rooftop, she had had two scares when she'd nearly fallen, and she was breathing hard and covered with sweat. Her plans earlier had been to read the letter in the gatehouse, but she was so tired now that she really didn't want to move yet. The moon was bright in the night sky, so she opened up her letter right there. The note was short.

_Two units already sent to take care of Skipper. Main army will march at noon. Expect attack at dawn._


	24. Night and Dawn

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Twenty-four: Night and Dawn**

"Hey, what are you doing on top of the gatehouse?"

Swike's head shot up from the small slip of paper in her paw. A creature stood above her on her spot on the walltop, a squirrel if the shadow of his tail meant anything.

"Oh, it's you Rosethorn. I didn't recognize you at first. But what are you doing there?" The squirrel looked up and down the walltop. "Isn't this your spot as sentry?"

Swike thought fast. She had already shoved the note into a pocket. She recognized the voice now. This was Gyis' older brother. They hadn't spent much time together, but they had been introduced to each other once as Swike trouped around Redwall with Maren. Even with her fast thinking, Swike couldn't come up with an interesting lie, so she held up the arrow she had fetched (the two halves put back together) and said, "I had to get my arrow. It fell onto the rooftop. Arrows are too important right now to waste."

"Hmmm," said the squirrel. Swike fought hard not to panic. It was all coming home to her now. So many mistakes, so many missteps, so much suspicion, and yet she hadn't been caught yet, she hadn't been found out. This was it. The Redwallers would discover who she really was. They would kill her. She had become too confident, too used to dancing around danger without getting hurt. But this was going too far. Sitting on top of the gatehouse under a three quarter moon when she knew other sentries were about, abandoning her post. These actions would cost her her life, they had already cost her the suspicion of a well-respected squirrel sentry. "You still shouldn't have left the wall," he said, breaking into her thoughts. "You could have waited till morning. Or you should have at least told another sentry where you were going. I could have probably gotten the arrow for you, actually. I'm sure I'm better at climbing than you are."

"Yes," said Swike, some of the fear she was feeling creeping into her voice. "It was very stupid of me. Actually, I'm not sure I can get down." That wasn't entirely true, but she knew it would be at least a struggle for her to climb down on her own.

The squirrel sighed heavily and turned away from her, looking out at the road south. Then he began to jog along the walltop toward the nearest set of stairs. Swike couldn't believe her luck. Was she going to escape discovery _again_? Quickly, she stuffed the arrow into her quiver and scooted over to the edge of the roof. _Never again_, she thought. _Never again will I risk my position as spy. From now on I will always, always be careful!_

Gyis' brother reached the gatehouse within moments and scaled the wall effortlessly. "I'll help you down," he said. Swike nodded and let the squirrel hold onto her as they climbed back down the wall together. Once on the ground again, Swike couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief.

"I'm really not the biggest fan of heights," she said. "Thank you… I'm sorry, I've forgotten you name."

"It's Spyn," said the squirrel, taking Swike's paw and making for the stairs again. "We must return to our posts."

"Of course," said Swike.

Swike spent the rest of her shift walking back and forth above the main gate. Spyn had a post near the southeast corner, keeping an eye on the trees of Mossflower. Swike made a point of not looking in his direction, but she kept getting a tingling feeling up and down her spine which made her certain that Spyn was maintaining a close watch on her. She couldn't have been more grateful when her replacement, a seasoned mouse who had impressed her with his sling shot accuracy, took over her post for the next shift. Spyn joined her in leaving the walltop.

"A clear night," he remarked conversationally.

"Yeah," said Swike.

"We'll be ready for whatever comes," said Spyn.

"Yeah."

Spyn stopped trying to make conversation. As they neared the abbey, he turned off to the side though, and Swike decided that finding out his business was more important than keeping him at bay for the moment.

"Where are you going?" she asked, slowing to a halt.

Spyn turned around. "To see my sister. She's insisted on staying in the bell tower, night and day. I know how she is; she won't be asleep right now. I'm going to keep her company for a short while." With that, he turned back around and trotted off in the direction of the bell tower. Swike entered the abbey. She had no desire to go back to her room. She wasn't tired at all. Too much nervous energy filled her body. Turning off the side of the Great Hall, she went down into the kitchens. Many of the cooks and helpers were awake, making food for the sentries who had just woken up and those just coming off duty.

"Hello Rosethorn," said Catalina, a hedgehog standing over a large bubbling pot. "Do you want to take a seat? We can get you something to eat soon. You must be tired." Catalina yawned hugely. "Or, at least I am. I took a nap earlier, but it doesn't feel like it now."

Swike sat down at the counter. "Some food would be nice," she said, her mind still on Spyn. _What's he going to tell his sister? He didn't do anything to me, but maybe he's just cautious. He's a threat._ Swike could see Spyn in her mind's eye, Gyis beside him, only a few paws shorter than her brother. _They both are._

"Here you go sweetie." Catalina set down a bowl of steaming soup in front of Swike and some bread. "The bread isn't fresh, I'm afraid. It's left over from supper."

"That's fine," said Swike with a smile, blowing on her soup.

"Cata, the soup!" said a mouse. The hedgehog spun around, ran back to her pot, and began to turn down the heat to stop it from boiling over any more. After a few moments she got it under control and the mouse who had brought her attention to the matter began to clean up the spilt soup.

"I can't believe I let that happen," said Catalina, wiping her brow. "After that lecture I gave about how important this soup was…" her voice faded away.

"It's, um … it's very good," said Swike uncertainly.

The hedgehog turned a kindly face toward the spy. "Why thank you Rosethorn!"

"Why's it so important?" Swike took another spoonful and blew on it before putting it into her mouth.

"Well, war will soon be upon us," said Catalina seriously. "We're going to keep this soup going the whole time. Very cost effective, easy to keep up. We'll just add more water and ingredients over time, so I'm sure the flavor will change a bit, day by day."

"Ingenious," said Swike with awe.

The hedgehog blushed. "Not really," she said, "it's been done before by beasts in the past who were much more capable in wartimes than ourselves. The last battle fought on this ground was even before the time of my grandparents. It's almost like all the vermin who might have attacked us just grew too scared."

"Time turns old fears into childish worries," said an otter near the back of the kitchen.

"Maybe…" Catalina mused.

* * *

Swike spent the rest of the night in the kitchens, using the excuse that she was too wound up to grow tired. She chatted a bit with other sentries who dropped in for a while, but she mostly spoke with the young mouse working as a kitchen helper. He was very talkative and he seemed to enjoy Swike's company. 

As the night was coming to a close, Swike found herself barely able to keep her eyes open. She knew she had to stay awake though. Things were about to start. Swike jerked her head up suddenly. _I nearly fell asleep! No, must stay awake, must stay awake!_

"Rosethorn, why don't you go to bed? You've been up all night. You must be exhausted." The mouse started to pull Swike up into a standing position as if he were going to escort her from the kitchen.

"No," said Swike half-heartedly. "No, Bryce, I'm not…" Yawn. "tired."

Bryce chuckled to himself. "Of course not," he said sarcastically. "Off to bed with you."

The sound of the bells broke into the calm of the kitchen, cacophonous and frantic. Swike straightened up and grabbed up her bow and quiver, fully awake. She pulled away from Bryce's grasp and ran out the kitchen doors. She could hear other beasts running as well, but her vision had narrowed as her heart beat within her throat and she could only see the doors leading out into the grounds. Long shadows revealed the coming of dawn.

Erupting into the open, Swike tried to take it all in. Crows. Crows everywhere. Soon, the shadows cast by the sun could no longer be detected as the sun, as the whole sky, was blocked out by a mass of black feathers. Raucous caws filled the air, making the whole scene even more confusing. In an instant, Swike's bow was strung and an arrow was in her paw. By luck, she grabbed a normal arrow, but she realized with a start that nearly half the arrows in her quiver were the special note-carrying type. She _could not _waste them!

Swike glanced around her. Dazed Redwallers were running to and fro, some with slings or bows, but all without any obvious direction or organization. The top of the walls could not be seen; the crows were in the way.

Swike took a deep breath. _Louder than the crows_, she told herself, _louder than the frightened Redwallers_. "To the armory!" she bellowed, amazing even herself at the power in her voice. To her surprise, she realized that she had reverted back to her normal voice, back to Swike's voice, but in the panic around her, nobeast seemed to notice. Swike ran for the armory to the north of the abbey building with most of the other beasts. Once there, she found that Brandy had already opened it up and was handing out weapons.

"Arrows," said Swike to the hedgehog. Brandy thrust a pawful of arrows at the girl and Swike turned away again. A few steps away from the armory doors, Swike let an arrow fly. In the mass of crows above, it was impossible to miss and a crow fell to the ground. Screams surrounded her, but Swike did her best to concentrate on the crows, still, she couldn't help but notice a bleeding squirrel stumble into her side. The crows had done more than block out the sky. Claws and beaks rained down on the Redwallers.

"The targets!" came Brandy's voice above the melee. "To the targets! Let them guard your backs!"

Swike helped the squirrel at her side to run over to the nearest archery target and they each put their backs to it so that no crows could come up behind them. Swike kept up as constant a flow of arrows as she could, and after a few moments, the squirrel at her side began to pelt sling stones skyward as well. As crows fell, wounded or dead, gaps began to open through which the sky could be viewed. In the pale light of dawn, Swike could see that many windows were open in the abbey building and Redwallers stood in the openings, shooting off missiles into the cloud of black birds.

"Redwall!" Swike heard a familiar voice shout. Lifil, with Martin's sword in paw, ran out of the abbey. Many otters were with her, brandishing spears or swords. Registering their lack of ranged weapons, many of the crows turned their attention to these newly arrived warriors. Swike found herself pulled along in the tide of archers and slingers, abandoning the protective targets in order to bring aide to their friends. As the call was taken up all around her, Swike found the word even on her own lips. "Redwall!"

The sun had fully risen; its red glow shined on the red stones like newly shed blood. Then, the abbey grounds, now turned into a battlefield, became awash in a light which seemed much brighter than the early morning sun. It appeared to be coming from the abbey itself, high above their heads, and Swike found herself blinded. She crouched down and covered her face along with many other beasts. The crows cawed angrily and many of them began crashing into each other, the ground, or the surrounding walls. Half-blind, they took to the sky and cleared from the air above Redwall.

By the time Swike could see again, the light had disappeared and she couldn't figure out where it had come from.

With clear skies, the Redwallers in the grounds could finally see the walltops. Many sentries lay at their posts. It was impossible to tell whether they were alive or dead, though it appeared that a few had even fallen off the wall during the crow attack, and their mangled bodies, Swike knew, would never rise again.

Swike ran for the nearest wall. Lifil, looking mostly unharmed, overtook her and bounded up the stairs, taking two at once with every stride. Even though Swike knew what was coming, her breath caught in her throat at the sight. Redwall was surrounded. The host of vermin, the army to which she belonged, could be seen in every direction.


	25. The Meeting

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Twenty-five: The Meeting**

Swike looked sidelong at Lifil. The otter's face was steely, set. Kneeling down, the young otter felt for a pulse on the mouse sentry lying at her side. _Martin made a good choice_, Swike found herself thinking, _Lifil has never seen anything like this army, but she isn't freaking out._ Swike pressed her eyes shut tightly and clenched her paws. _No! No! Martin _didn't _choose Lifil! He didn't! That's impossible! I should know better!_

Done chastising herself, Swike opened her eyes and snapped into action. She ran along the walltop to the next sentry. It was a mole. Once she had turned him over onto his back, he immediately began to blink and sit up. He appeared too shocked to speak, and once he was on his paws, Swike was barely fast enough to catch him from falling down again. From the wide-eyed expression on his face, she figured that he hadn't seen the army, or at least not the bulk of the army, due to the crow attack, till now.

The ground began to rumble as if in an earthquake. Swike and the mole at her side grabbed at the wall for balance. Looking back out at the mass of vermin, Swike found the cause of the quake. All of the vermin, all the thousands of rats and weasels and ferrets and stoats, were stomping on the ground and clanking their weapons together. Fear gripped Swike, a fear which defied reason. She felt as if she had gone numb; she couldn't look away. Her heart pounded in her ears.

And then the sound faded away and the army quieted down, ceased its movements. A voice, clear and unwavering, sounded to Swike's left. Turning numbly, Swike saw Abbess Pojam, standing in the center of the western walltop, Lifil solid beside her. It looked like scores of seasons had fallen away from the old mouse. She stood up straight and strong, very much in her prime and in control of her beloved abbey.

"What is the meaning of this?" she projected, as if to a room full of naughty dibbuns who had tracked in mud and then set up a racket. "What harm have we done to you that you bring war here?"

The power and complete lack of fear in the Abbess sent a rustle of murmurs and unsettled fidgeting through the army below. Swike didn't know if all of the vermin could hear the Abbess or not, but if they could just see her, that would probably be enough.

At this moment, a wave passed through the vermin army. A mass of green seemed to rise into the air, starting near the back of the army and coming toward the abbey. It took Swike a while to figure out what it must be, but then she saw a ferret wearing a cloak of forest green, striding forward, and she understood. As Lord Koron passed between the units of his army, the beasts alongside him raised their left paws into the air in some sort of salute, and except for a few captains wearing blue, everybeast else sported a green wristband. Swike looked down at her own left paw. She had forgotten about the wristband that she had left behind when she became Rosethorn.

The wave of green appeared to speed up as it came closer, and then Lord Koron was right below the Abbess, cloak swishing to a halt around his form. The fear in Swike began to rise even more. She clung onto the battlements, her mind a jumble of panic which she couldn't understand.

"Abbess Pojam," spoke Koron confidently, "I, Lord Koron, hereby declare your abbey at siege. Surrender or everybeast in Redwall will die. I promise you that."

The old mouse flinched as she heard her name on the lips of the ferret, but she recovered quickly. "And what will happen to us if we _do_ surrender?" she asked. Swike felt as if her tongue had swelled within her mouth and she didn't know how the Abbess could stand up to Koron as she was doing.

"Then your lives and the lives of Skipper and his band will be spared and you will all be made into slaves."

Lifil's shoulders noticeably fell. The otter looked as if she were about to explode, but the Abbess grabbed her paw and she remained silent.

"This is a big decision," said the Abbess clearly, "and I am but one beast, and an old one at that. It is not right for me to make this decision on my own."

_She's buying time!_

"Of course," said Koron politely, his voice dripping with a sweetness which chilled Swike to the bone, "you will have your time. Tell me your decision at sunset. At that time, either you or I will open up Redwall's gates to my army." Without another word, Koron turned and strode away. A wave of green accompanied his retreating form.

* * *

Swike sat comfortably between Lifil and Maren in the war meeting. She had long ago recovered from her fright at dawn. Oddly, she wasn't tired after her sleepless night. This was where it all began. 

Abbess Pojam, still in possession of her composure, rang a bell to start the meeting. All chatter around the table died down. The old mouse set the bell on the table before her and stared into its glistening metal, quiet for a moment. Finally, she cleared her throat and began.

"Evil times these are," she said, eyes still on the bell, "evil times have come upon us." She sighed and looked up at the beasts gathered around her. "You are all here because I or someone else has recommended you. You are all here because your insight and skills can help us."

Swike glanced around the table. Many of the elders had been gathered, but the youth had not gone unrepresented. Spyn sat halfway down the table from her, filling in for his sister who still refused to leave the bell tower. Bryce, one of the kitchen helpers, was here to represent the kitchen staff, the only beast who had been let off duty for this meeting. Ronn, recently named the official infirmary apprentice, was here to represent Haley. Lifil, of course, sat next to Swike, directly opposite Pojam, Martin's sword resting on the table in front of her. It was she who had insisted that Swike and Maren be allowed to attend. There was tension, Swike knew, over that issue. Spyn had seemed very against Swike being allowed in, and even Maren had been unsure of what help she could be, though she followed Swike's lead anyway.

"Today," continued the Abbess, "was a disaster. Thankfully, only two abbeybeasts were killed, but it was a disaster none the less. In only a few minutes, our abbey was rendered practically defenseless."

Swike's mind drifted outside. One otter and one mole had fallen off the battlements. They were the only two casualties. A squirrel had fallen too, but she was currently in the infirmary, expected to recover. Among the injured, none were actually expected to die. A shiver went down Swike's spine as she thought of the uninjured. Most of the beasts who had fallen into that category were mice. The crows felt no desire to risk hurting Lord Koron's spy.

"I am not so proud to suggest that I have all the answers," said Abbess Pojam, her eyes watering. "In fact, I have little to contribute here." She rose her paw to quiet any arguments. "I don't," she stressed. "I am old and my uses here are few.

"Now, we don't need talk like this. We need to discuss what it is we're going to do. Ammiv," she said, turning to the Badgermum, "you've been here the longest. You were actually here the last time Redwall went through a war."

"Not exactly a war," apologized the badger. "It was more of a skirmish, Abbess. And I was young then too."

"You still know more of this than I do," insisted the Abbess. A sad look settled on her face. "If only we had a Recorder…"

Many of the older beasts tensed up at this. Swike saw a few tears falling.

"Too long," said an old mouse sitting next to the Abbess quietly. "Too long have we left that position empty." She reached over and took Pojam's paw in hers. "Your sister was such an excellent Recorder, Pojam! So knowledgeable! I know … that she would have been able to help us today."

"It's been seasons," said Ammiv, "since anybeast really went through the documents in the gatehouse. We're losing touch with our past, with our history. A terrible loss. I promised Kimmy that I'd find a new Recorder. When she never found an apprentice … I promised her … that I would." The old badger hung her head.

"Stop this," said Brandy. "Stop this! This is not the time to have such regrets! An army," she took a deep breath, "a _huge_ army surrounds us. We have to act! We have to win! So, let's discuss how we're going to do that."

"So we're not surrendering?" asked Ronn nervously.

"Of course not!" said Lifil. "We can't surrender!"

"Lifil's right," said Brandy, her spikes bristling. "Surrender is not an option. Would you see our dibbuns made into slaves? And how do we know we can even trust that none will be killed once we surrender?"

_Slaves_, thought Swike. _But I thought Lord Koron never took slaves. I thought he always left death and destruction…_

"Burr aye!" put in the Foremole, "We'm carn't surrendier! Must foight!"

"Alright," said the Abbess. "I knew we couldn't surrender, so let's come up with a plan. I," she pressed her eyes closed tight, "_will not_ see my abbey fall to the likes of Lord Koron and his army, not as my seasons are drawing to a close. So, what are we going to do?"

All eyes left Abbess Pojam, but there was an obvious split. Some of the beasts around the table looked to Brandy for the plan of action, but just as many eyes were upon Lifil and Martin's sword. Brandy and Lifil took this fact in as quickly as anybeast else, and they stared each other down.

"In Skipper's absence…" began Brandy. Lifil grabbed onto the handle of Martin's sword, her eyes on fire.

"Wait!" said Maren, standing up and reaching across Swike to place a paw on Lifil's shoulder. She looked first at her roommate and friend and then across at Brandy. "Do you really plan to fight? Brandy, there's an army outside and we have to act, you said so yourself. If we can't work together within these walls, we're doomed." Maren turned to look at her friend again, squeezing the otter's shoulder. "Lifil, Martin gave you his sword because he has faith in you, but you must learn to glorify his memory by having faith in the rest of us."

"Well said, young one," said the mouse sitting beside the Abbess. She glanced over her spectacles as if to get a better look at Maren, who immediately sat back down, blushing. "How is it that I never saw…" her voice faded away.

"Never saw what, Tissa?" asked the Abbess.

The old mouse shook her head. "Something to talk of another time, Pojam. Other, more important, matters face us today."

"Yes," said Brandy. The hedgehog stood up and walked around the table to stand behind Lifil. "I and…" her eyes rested on the otter, "the Abbey Champion, will come up with a defensive plan which we can both agree upon and which plays to the strengths of the beasts still in Redwall."

"They control the skies," said Swike, speaking up for the first time.

"Owls," said Lifil. "Even in fewer numbers, owls are better fighters than crows. Abbess, is your owl friend ready to fly? He could fetch more of his kind to help us."

"Too many crows," said Swike matter-of-factly. "He'll never get away to fetch any help. Without control of the skies, we'll lose. All the vermin have to do is send in the crows, overwhelm the battlements, and then they just scale the walls and they're in."

"Do you have any suggestions, Rosethorn, or are you just trying to rob us of all hope?" asked Brandy haughtily.

For the first time in the meeting, all eyes were on the spy. Spyn was clenching his fists together so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "Squirrels," said Swike, eyeing Spyn. "On the sides of the abbey building, with weighted nets."

Murmurs spread throughout the room. Brandy clamped a paw on Swike's shoulder. "Lifil chooses her friends wisely," said the hedgehog. "Maybe you could help us with the defensive strategies. We could use a mind like yours."

"Down in the cellars," said Bryce, "in the room next to where we keep the cheese, there's lots of rope. Some nets too. I think they use the nets for fishing sometimes. We could get to work on those."

"Good," said the Abbess. "Bryce, would you lead the Foremole and some other helpers down there? You could start on the nets. Ronn, I need to speak with you a bit about how the infirmary is fairing. Lifil and Brandy, gather good beasts around you. I want to see extensive plans and sentry schedules by noon. If Lord Koron is true to his word and holds back his force till sunset, then I'll be very surprised. This meeting is adjourned!"


	26. Woes of a Mousemaid

A/N: I'm back! I'm sooo sorry for taking so long to edit this story! I just kept getting busy. Feel free to read over the story if you can't remember what's going on. But don't feel like you need to read it to check for changes. Mostly, I corrected spelling mistakes. The biggest changes I made were to change a few chapter titles. Without further ado, enjoy!

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Twenty-six: Woes of a Mousemaid**

A booming sound reached the ears of the goodbeasts atop the battlements. Some of them stared about, wide-eyed with fright, but most had grown used to the noises. Even though the vermin army hadn't attacked yet, the war had undoubtedly begun. Shouts, clangs, and other abrasive sounds filtered constantly into the abbey grounds, some of them loud enough to be heard throughout the abbey building. The beasts on the walltop, peeking at the surrounding vermin, found it hard to believe their eyes. Despite a constant morning's effort, they still couldn't figure out how many vermin made up the army. It seemed as if all the weapons not currently being used in training had been arrayed throughout the makeshift camp, the sun catching on the metal tips to flicker like so many beached fish after a storm. Most of the vermin on the ground had either retreated into tents or else were moving about, their constant milling acting to further confuse anybeast set with the task to count them. Swike was getting a headache even trying.

Sighing heavily and slumping next to the wall, Swike pressed her paws into her weary eyes. Truly, she didn't even know why she bothered to try counting Lord Koron's followers. She already knew better than anybeast else in Redwall how big the army was, and unlike anybeast else in Redwall, she also knew of the two units in Mossflower Wood, hunting down Skipper.

A paw lightly touched Swike's shoulder and she opened her eyes to see Brandy's bristly face. The hedgehog waved a paw for Swike to follow. All of the "counters" were being called silently off the walls. Falling in step behind them, Swike couldn't control herself enough to resist a glance toward the trees of Mossflower. She couldn't see them, but she knew there were bound to be crows in those trees, spying on the defensive movements of the abbeybeasts.

Before long, the group of goodbeasts sat assembled in the Great Hall. Not one happy face could be found among them. Maren was soon the only beast standing, and she cleared her throat nervously.

"If you could please," she began, her voice decreasing in volume as she spoke, "give me your estimates." Her eyes were now closed and her last few words had been barely a whisper.

Swike's heart went out to the mousemaid. It had been her idea to count the vermin. She said that not only was it a good idea to know what they were up against, but if they could also keep track of the number of dead vermin, subtracting that number could act as a morale booster for the Redwallers. Not even Maren could be so unrealistic as to think that this was true any more though. Even if the Redwallers could vanquish half of Lord Koron's army, they would still have a force larger than they could handle to reckon with.

Mutely, Swike wrote her "guess" on the paper that was being passed around. _Over four thousand_, she wrote, knowing that the reality was much graver.

When the paper was passed into Maren's paws, the young mouse opened her eyes and began to read down the list, biting her lip unconsciously. She said nothing. Brandy was soon behind her to take the list from her and usher her into a seat. With barely a look at the stunned mouse, Brandy took charge of the room.

"I'm afraid," she began, looking with concern at the top of Maren's head, "that counting the army has gotten us nowhere. The army outside our gates is vast beyond what any of us could have anticipated. Some of you may feel now that we should give up-"

"No!" said Lifil fiercely. "I don't care how big the army is! We can't give up! Redwall has never fallen to vermin before, ever!"

"Lifil," said Brandy, regarding the youngster with annoyance, "you didn't let me finish." The hedgehog cleared her throat. "Some of you may feel now that we should give up, but Redwall has never given up. We have fought against many armies, many hordes of vermin. These walls have always held and the goodbeasts inside have outlasted every siege. I'm sure you're all familiar with stories of the wars we have won. We don't know for sure how many vermin attacked our beloved abbey in the past, so we have no reason to believe that we can't win this war now. It will be hard, sure, but it won't be impossible. All we need is sound defensive strategies, and I believe we have that."

The bells began to ring outside. Many gasps could be heard throughout the room, but Gyis was only announcing lunch. Brandy placed down the list of predictions, now slightly crumpled, and tried to act like the bells hadn't startled her. "Would somebeast please find the Abbess? She wanted to know our plan by noon."

A squirrel near the stairs jumped up and left the room. Swike got up and began helping Lifil to lay out their plans across the table. From time to time, she glanced either at Maren or Spyn. The young mousemaid looked devastated. Swike wasn't sure she'd even heard anything Brandy had said. Spyn also seemed lost in his thoughts. He had begun writing down plans earlier, but then Brandy gave that task over to Swike who proved herself to have better penmanship than the squirrel.

"Do you really think this will be enough?" asked Lifil, standing back from the plans and folding her arms nervously.

"What?" asked Swike, coming back to their task and unconsciously straightening out her large map of Redwall and the surrounding woods.

"I just feel like we haven't thought of enough," said the otter, now leaning forward and rapping her knuckles on the table. "Alright, help me out here Rosethorn. What is it that we've come up with again?"

Swike lay a paw on the otter's shoulder and gently squeezed it. "You'll do great," she said. "I mean it. We've thought of everything we could. Sentry schedules. Bracing the doors. Archers and sling-shotters. Fire, boiling water, nets, gravel and stones. We have many tools at our paws, and we've taken hold of all of them."

Lifil nodded mutely, continuing to scour the parchments before her with her eyes. Just then, Pojam came up beside the young otter. Swike hadn't heard the old Abbess approaching. Letting go of Lifil's shoulder, the spy stepped back from the otter and mouse. The room became silent with anticipation.

"How much of this has been set in order?" asked the Abbess, reading over one of the papers.

"The sentry schedule you're looking at," said Brandy from across the table, "has already been posted next to Martin's tapestry and also in the kitchens. The correct beasts are on duty right now."

"The nets are almost all finished," put in Bryce, coming up next to Swike. He smiled winningly at the spy for a moment. "Foremole sent me to tell you, Abbess. Some of the nets are already in place."

"Good," said Abbess Pojam, nodding at the young mouse. "But what about the dibbuns and the beasts who are too old to fight?"

"Except for those being tended in the infirmary," voiced Lifil, "all have been taken down into Cavern Hole. That's where Badgermum Ammiv is right now, Abbess."

"And the-" The Abbess was cut off by the bells. Many beasts in the room exited it quickly, not waiting to be excused. Spyn sprinted past Swike and then up the stairs. He was probably going to join some of the other squirrels waiting with nets in the upper stories. In the next moment, Maren was at the spy's side, pulling on her arm.

"Rosethorn, I don't know what to do!" the mouse panicked.

Swike looked around. "Bryce," she called to the kitchen helper. "Help me calm her down!" The mouse came at her call instantly and the two of them were able to lead Maren to a bench and sit her down. "Maren, what's come over you?" asked Swike, holding the mousemaid's head back so that she could look into her eyes.

"Too many," said Maren. "Too many. Too many. Too-" a sob interrupted her rant.

"What is she supposed to do?" asked Bryce, grabbing Swike's attention.

"Do? What do you mean, _do_?"

"The plans," said Bryce, motioning toward the table, still scattered with parchments.

"Oh, right," said Swike. "She only has to deliver rations and weapons to the walltops."

"Let's get her to the kitchen then. That's my job too." He turned to the sobbing mousemaid. "Maren, we need you to try and calm down and walk with us to the kitchens."

Maren appeared to be lost in her own little world, or nightmare, but Bryce's words got through to her and, with a big sniff, she nodded and stood. The three mice made their way across the Great Hall, scurrying around the beasts who continued to run back and forth. Maren leaned heavily on Bryce as if she were injured and couldn't walk on her own. As the threesome crossed in front of the doors leading outside, Swike stole a look. Crows were flying about the abbey building, but unlike earlier that morning, the sky could still be seen. And also unlike the attack at dawn, the abbey beasts were better prepared. A group of otters and mice being led by Lifil ran about the grounds with pikes and swords, killing crows trapped underneath nets. A mouse lugging a net behind him chose that moment to run inside, dragging the net back up toward the squirrels who were casting them out upon the crows. Then Swike was past the door, suddenly upset with herself for not taking in the state of the battlements. Had any of the vermin scaled the walls yet?

Arriving in the kitchens, Bryce steered Maren over to a stool and then helped her to hold a glass of water as she drank. For a moment, Swike smiled at the two young mice. She imagined drawing the pair of them, sharing a stroll through the orchards or a slice of cake next to the pond. Almost immediately, she felt like hitting herself over the head. If her mind was wandering onto such useless thoughts, she was obviously under too much stress.

"Hello Maren," said a hedgehog holding a ladle.

Maren focused on the speaker. "Hi Cata," she said. She looked about ready to cry again.

"It'll be alright, sweety," said Catalina, gently patting Maren's paw. "It'll be alright."

Bryce took a now confused Swike to the side. "I was afraid she might get like this," he said.

Swike glanced over at Maren. Catalina had placed a bowl of soup in front of her, and the mouse was now eating. Her usual smile was nowhere to be found. "Why did you think she'd be like this?" As Swike asked, she remembered the night that Lifil claimed to have been visited by Martin. Again, she could see the shadow come over Maren's face upon learned of the coming doom.

Bryce shook his head before whispering, "Poor thing! She used to have terrible nightmares when she was younger. Hasn't had any in seasons, I don't think. When I started working here in the kitchen though, I'd notice that sometimes she wanders in in the middle of the night. She never looked too good. But in the daytime, you can always see her with a smile on her face. It's more likely that you'll hear her laugh before you see her, actually."

"Do you know what her nightmares are about?" asked the spy with concern.

"Different things," the kitchen helper replied, "but mostly about vermin. We think that her parents were attacked by bandits. We don't really know though, and Maren was too young to remember."

"Her parents," said Swike softly. "I never even thought to ask before."

"None of us knew them," said Bryce. "Maren was found in Mossflower, hidden in some brush, crying." A mole ran into the kitchen and pushed beside Swike to get to the bread lying on the counter. He was one of the beasts assigned to deliver food to the warriors. Seeing him seemed to snap Bryce back into the present. "Oh my, I should get to work!" He looked at Swike with surprise. "Rosethorn, aren't you one of the warriors? Shouldn't you be outside?"

Swike shook her head. "It's part of the plan of defense. Unless the abbey is being overrun, all sentries," Swike motioned toward herself, "must only be outside during their assigned time. Non-sentries, like Lifil's group and the squirrels upstairs, are on their own rotation. There are many more vermin than us and we can't wear everybeast out at the same time."

Bryce nodded, spooning some soup into a large bowl and then fishing a lid for the bowl out of a drawer. "Makes sense. I wouldn't have thought of that." After gathering together a few last things, he began to leave. "Will you sit with Maren while I'm gone? I think I can calm her down more later. I'm certain that, in the end, she'll get over her fears and help out Redwall however possible."

"Sure," said Swike, walking over to the mousemaid.

"Thanks Rosethorn!" called Bryce, exiting the kitchen door.


	27. Cracking Under Pressure

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Twenty-seven: Cracking Under Pressure**

"Over here, now! I can't--"

"Watch out!"

"--and then you have--"

"Kep et steddy, zur!"

"REDWALL!"

Swike's head throbbed. Even the yelling in the vermin camp had never been like this. _I wasn't ready. I can't believe I wasn't ready!_ Swike ducked as an arrow sped over her head. It had been too high for someone of her height, but ducking wasn't a stupid thing to do when you saw an arrow heading straight at you. _How can I even call myself a vermin? I've never been in a war before!_ Swike forced herself to take a deep breath, stand up, shoot, and duck again. She had no idea if she'd hit anything. The constant buzzing in her ears was making her jittery and she hadn't aimed any of the last half dozen arrows she'd shot off.

"Crem stack!"

"Lembot!"

"Yei aid meck!"

Swike blinked her eyes rapidly, trying hard to keep them from watering. Nothing was making sense any more. All of the yelling was mixing together into the throb in her head. How was anybeast able to respond to such jibberish?

"--osethorn! Rosethorn!"

Swike searched for a mouth to match those words. She didn't have to look far. Bryce was crouched right beside her, handing her a pawful of arrows and offering her a drink of water. She took the drink, carefully bringing it to her mouth to avoid a spill. Then she handed an empty cup back to the mouse.

"You look hot!" yelled Bryce, motioning with his paw that she might want to dump a cupful of water over her head and down her back. Biting her tongue, Swike shook her head. Hot she may be, but she wasn't about to drown her disguise. She was nervous enough as it was that her sweat was going to be the death of her.

_Just move along, Bryce,_ Swike thought, standing up to shoot off another arrow, hoping the mouse would get the message. He must have, for once she had straightened out her new arrows, he was gone. Swike took out a kerchief and carefully dabbed her sweat away. _I think I'm going deaf. And I haven't even been out here two hours yet._

Each of the sentries had been scheduled for two, four hour shifts. Swike was seriously beginning to doubt that she could keep up with her duties, but she tried not to think of that. The army was a tough enemy, but it was the Redwallers, not herself, that were supposed to crack under this pressure.

_I hope this war isn't long_, she found herself thinking. _We can't hold out against this. No way._ Swike peeped over the battlements. A grappling hook flew up into her face, latching onto the wall in front of her. Gulping and breathing hard, Swike grabbed up a long knife next to her paw. _I almost lost an eye!_ she felt like screaming, but she held her tongue. She began hacking away at the rope with her knife, but it was hard and dangerous work. These grabbling hooks had poles as long as her arm attached to the three metal claws, so she had to lean far out over the battlements in order to get to the hanging rope, making her an easy target for the archers below.

So it was, hanging out over the battlements, holding onto the hook with her left paw as much for balance as ease in cutting, that she saw the first face among the vermin that she recognized. Scampering up the rope in short spurts was Blackgut the rat. His left paw was bandaged, making climbing hard for him, but he was making as fast a climb as he could. Swike wasn't sure what was making him go faster: the rat behind him goading him on, or the sight of Swike cutting at the rope above.

Swike paused in her actions. She had cut the rope halfway through, but the thought of finishing the task made her stomach churn worse than any other thing ever had. A rush of thoughts and emotions tore through her head.

_Lord Koron gave me permission to kill anybeast in the army._

_But I've never killed before._

_No, I've killed before. I've killed with arrows, at a long distance. I've just never seen the face of a victim._

_Do I have victims? I don't like the way that sounds._

_I have to kill Blackgut. I have to stay in character._

_But Blackgut never did anything to hurt me. He never did anything to deserve to fall to his death. Except that he's a member of Lord Koron's army. So he must have done something to deserve death._

_Deserve? Since when did I think like this? The goodbeasts are making me weak._

_But I like Blackgut. He looked up to me._

_No he didn't. He looked up to Harcut._

While Swike had deliberated, paralyzed with indecision, Blackgut had reached the top. He now stared straight, and frightened, into her face. Swike saw recognition dawn on him. His eyes left hers, searching for a target. Swike saw him grip his sword tightly and bring it above his head. Feeling like everything was moving in slow motion, she turned her head to follow Blackgut's gaze. Bryce was walking back toward the stairs, his paws encumbered with the near empty water jug. Swike began to swing up her knife, to block a blow against which Bryce had no defense, but her actions felt painfully slow. All of the sounds around her seemed to disappear, replaced by the steady pumping of her own heart. She was in more pain than she had ever been in her life, not knowing why she was here or what she was doing or why, but she felt that she had to stop Blackgut's sword from ending Bryce's life.

As the two blades clanged together, Swike grimaced at the shock wave passing through her arm. Bryce fell to the ground, startled but unscathed. The next sentry down the wall came at a run. He had a sword in his paw and raised it to attack Blackgut who had fallen onto the walkway in front of Swike. Again, without understanding her actions, Swike blocked an impending death strike, but this time, she protected Blackgut. The otter on the other end of her parry looked stunned. Trying to recover from her blunder, Swike spun around and deftly slashed the rope behind her. The second rat never made it over the wall. He and the beasts beneath him fell to the ground below, fell to their deaths.

Swike felt like she was engulfed in a whirlwind of colors and sounds. Nothing made sense any more. She didn't remember dropping her knife, but without it in her grasp, she found herself reduced to flailing out around her with bare paws. She knew not whether she attacked vermin or goodbeasts and she didn't know if she was fighting to protect herself or another. The pain in her heart was growing though, almost to an unbearable level. Hard paws gripped her shoulders, trying to hold her down. She screamed at the top of her lungs, memories returning to her of the beatings she had received from her brothers. She kicked at her captors, feeling their grip lessen. She had to get away before her third brother began to hit her.

A cool paw came to rest on her brow. She flinched at the alien touch and opened her eyes, realizing for the first time that she had closed them. The nightmare was gone. She wasn't in her old home. The beasts holding her were an otter and mole, not her rat brothers. And the mouse in front of her had a familiar, friendly face: Bryce. She stopped struggling and slumped against the battlement wall. On the walkway beside her, a creature lay facedown with a knife in their back. It took a moment for Swike to realize whose knife it was and a moment longer to recognize the beast.

_This is too much!_ was the last thing she remembered thinking before blackness surrounded her.

* * *

Swike came to slowly and painfully. The muscles in her arms and chest would have been yelling if they could, but even though she could yell, she didn't. Grinding her teeth together against the pain, Swike struggled to open her eyes.

"Rosethorn!" Maren leaned over her, looking relieved. "I'm so glad you're awake! I couldn't believe it when they brought you in unconscious! Bryce said that you were taken over by a bloodlust!" Maren looked both awed and slightly frightened.

"What?" croaked Swike, doing her best to sit up. The mousemaid jumped forward to help her. For the first time, Swike took in her surroundings. She was in the Great Hall, lying on a blanket by the wall. Many other beasts were all around her.

"The infirmary's full," said Maren. "Only the beasts with really bad injuries are being treated. I wanted to tend to you myself, but I've been working. I just got off the wall a few minutes ago and came in to check on you."

Swike barely heard Maren's chatter. She was too preoccupied with sorting out her memories. "What happened?" she asked.

"Oh, you were splendid!" said Maren. "From what I heard, at least. There was a rat, and it came over the wall. It tried to kill Bryce, but you stopped it and then you cut the rope it had climbed up and killed the rat yourself. Unfortunately, Bryce says you went into a bloodlust as this happened and you began hitting anybeast who got near you. And then he says that you just went limp and fainted."

"I killed the rat?" whimpered Swike.

She could see him in her mind's eye now. Blackgut, his blood clotting around the knife in his back, her knife. He had recognized her; he knew that she was on his side. He had turned his back on her; he had given his life into her paws and she had taken it. And yet, she couldn't remember doing so.

All of Swike's efforts to keep her eyes dry while in the midst of chaos on the wall were for naught. She couldn't hold back the tears now. Leaning over and hugging her legs, she mourned Blackgut. The thought occurred to her that she would probably be the only beast to ever do so, and she sobbed all the louder.

"Oh Rosethorn!" comforted Maren, hugging the spy tightly.

Keeping her head down, Swike leaned into the embrace, feeling a warmth wash through her. She knew that she was currently destroying her disguise, she knew that her days as a mouse were numbered, now probably by the hour, but she couldn't help herself. For the first time in her life she had bloodied her paws in the death of another, and it had been a friend that she had killed. Or at least, the closest thing to a friend that a vermin could have.

Blackgut, skittish though he was, had admired Swike. He had looked up to her, finding her strong and capable. He had told her of Koron's plans to attack Redwall, the only warning she got before she heard it from the warlord himself. And she had given him false hope. She had lied to him; she had told him that, as Harcut, she intended to confront Koron and prevent the army from marching on Redwall. He had feared of meeting his death on these red walls, a fear which proved true. _How can I look myself in the mirror again?_

_Mirror! _Swike sniffed loudly and quickly dried her eyes with her right paw. Almost in a panic, she glanced at the paw. It looked gritty, smeared with plant dies. In an instant, Swike knew she had to pull herself together. She wasn't ready to die yet; she wasn't ready to be discovered. She had to get to her room, her mirror, her satchel!

Covering her face with her paws, hoping that she simply looked like she was crying into them, she attempted to stand. Maren loosened her embrace and, taking Swike's elbow, helped her up. The mousemaid had been resting her head on Swike's shoulder this whole time. Could Swike manage to remain hidden from the girl?

"Where do you want to go Rosethorn?"

Taking courage in the name 'Rosethorn,' Swike said, "To my room. I need some time alone." Swike's soreness had worn off a little since she had woken up, but she still felt stiff and her body ached. _I have to make a decision. Maren can help me to my room or I can go alone._

"I can walk you up there," said the mousemaid helpfully.

Swike let Maren guide her a few steps. "No. I want to go by myself. I'm fine Maren." A step later, Swike was away from the mouse's grip and stumbling to the staircase. She made it there without mishap. Taking her paws away from her face, she rubbed them on her tunic and then placed them on the walls of the stairway for balance. She would make it to her room. She had to.


	28. Fires and Shouts

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Fires and Shouts**

Swike the rat lay on her bed. Though she had spent enough time in Redwall to be known, at least by sight, by all of its inhabitants, nobeast currently inside its walls would have recognized her now.

The sound of a bell startled Swike awake. Her eyes scanned the room quickly. The first thing that hit her was the lack of light. Gyis was ringing the bells for midnight. Getting out of bed, Swike felt her way to the door. Her chair was still jammed under the knob. After reassuring herself that it wasn't about to move, she sat back down on her bed.

Peeking out the window, Swike gazed upon the scene of a nighttime war. She could spy the flickering of candles on the battlements, and in their pools of light, the night sentries moving about. Torches and campfires burnt throughout the vermin camp, their abundance almost more than Swike's eyes could take. _They must have built fires even outside of the camp, to make themselves appear bigger,_ thought Swike. _They _must_ have! The army can't be that big!_

Light filled the scene below. Looking up, Swike gazed upon the nearly full moon. Clouds filled the sky, but for the moment, none covered the moon. Returning her gaze to the vermin camp, Swike squinted out at the furthest campfires. She couldn't be positive, but she thought that there were no tents near those fires. Sighing with relief that the army was only _trying_ to appear unending, Swike lay back down on her bed.

_What should I do now? I should probably spy or search for a response from Lord Koron. But I look like myself. I think it's too dark to make a convincing disguise. _Swike grinned. _Yes, it's too dark. Nothing left to do except sleep_. Turning away from the window, Swike yawned and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Swike opened her eyes. Light filled the room. Daylight. She felt like, as a spy, she should be concerned by her late rising, but Swike was done with spying. She had killed a fellow rat the day before and hated herself for it. Stretching and yawning, she stumbled out of bed. She could hear yelling down on the grounds and also from the floors below her, but considering Redwall's current war status, she dismissed them and slumped in front of her mirror in the corner. Seeing her own reflection brought a sudden smile to her face, and she stared openly at her own beauty.

Swike took a deep breath and reached out toward her satchel. She became instantly alert, frozen with her paw resting on the strap of the satchel, no longer the least bit asleep.

"I shouldn't be able to smell the kitchen fires from up here," she said softly. She turned her head first toward the window, open to sky, then toward the door, closed to what should be an empty hallway.

Swike bit her tongue. _Fire. I can smell smoke. Where is the fire?_ Feeling her chest tighten with apprehension, Swike rose slowly and made her way to the window. Standing within the shadow of her room, she stared out on chaos. Redwallers were running everywhere; some of the sentries even looked like they were abandoning the battlements. Most of the goodbeasts were looking or pointing at the abbey building and the overcast sky above. Feeling her insides squirm, Swike shot a gaze at the heavens. Black crows could be seen against the gray clouds, too high to be ensnared by nets, and in their claws they held ropes. Ropes with fireballs dangling at their ends.

Swike watched with horror as one ball came hurtling earthward, it's rope a flaming tail which whipped in the wind. The ball crashed into the side of the abbey a few floors above her. With a shout, Swike stumbled back from the window.

Her mind in a whirl, the rat hastily pawed through her satchel. Within moments, she had everything out that she would need; she got to work on her face. Her room was no longer safe, but in her current guise, the rest of Redwall would be just as dangerous.

With unsteady paws and a pumping heart, Swike finished her task. Looking at her reflection, Swike did her best not to scream. In the mirror was a mouse, but this mouse wasn't Rosethorn. Wetting a rag, Swike closed her eyes. _Focus! Focus on the disguise! Focus on Rosethorn!_ She opened her eyes and scanned her face once again. Spotting her mistake, she hastened to wet her ears and the fur on her cheeks which brushed toward her ears. As she reapplied the gel-like substance which made her fur sleek and caused the fur just under her ears to stick out slightly, she focused on breathing lightly, to keep her face still (and also to keep her nose from picking up too much of the smell of smoke, which was growing steadily stronger).

Rosethorn stared at Swike from the depths of her mirror. The rat stuffed all of her things back into her satchel and readied herself to leave the room. She approached the door and pulled the chair away. As she did so, she brushed her right paw against the doorknob.

"Ayiiii!" she yelled, letting the chair rattle to the floor. She cradled her paw to herself, blinking her eyes to hold back the tears. "Bad," she muttered. "Very bad. Hot doorknob. Fire." The room was much stuffier than it had been when she first woke up and it was growing hazy as well. Swike went down on all fours and tried to see under the crack of her door. The hallway, which was normally dark, even at noon, seemed lit by an orange glow. Retreating to the open window, Swike took a deep breath of fresh air and commanded herself not to panic.

_I took too long. It took me too long to become Rosethorn. Now the fire is in the hallway. I don't know how much of it is on fire, but I can't leave now. I'm trapped. All so that I could become a stupid mouse!_

_Mouse! What would a mouse do?_

Abandoning all sense of pride, Swike stretched out her arms and began to wave them. "Help!" she yelled. "I can't get out!"

After a few minutes of calling for help, she could tell that she had been spotted. Two squirrels that were already scaling the walls made for her room. The first one to reach the window was a pretty young maid named Besse.

"Rosethorn, right?" she asked.

"Yes!" said Swike, sighing with relief.

"It's alright," said Besse. "You'll be fine now." She glanced over Swike's shoulder. "Is there anything you need to keep?"

Swike turned around. _Of course, I'll need my satchel!_ Crouching down to avoid the smoke which now filled the upper half of the room, Swike ran over to her satchel. She opened it up and stuffed her mirror inside before swinging it over her shoulder. Now she just needed her bow and arrows which were resting, as usual, by the window.

Swike stumbled back to the open window, eyes squinted against the smoke. She stuffed her head outside, coughing and trying to breathe at the same time.

"Careful, Rosethorn," said a familiar voice. Swike looked up into Spyn's face. He was her second rescuer. He took hold of her under the arms and heaved her bodily out of the window.

"My bow and arrows!" called out the rat.

"Where are they?" asked Besse, sticking her head into the room. "Oh, I see. Right here. I've got them Rosethorn."

Swike nodded her head and inched along the ledge she was standing on, trying to get away from the window which was now spewing smoke. Her satchel felt overly heavy and quickly unbalanced her. With a yell, she grabbed onto Spyn, draping her arms around him.

"I've got you," the squirrel said. Swike could feel his arm wrapped snuggly around her waist. "Just hold onto me and I'll help you down. Remember the gatehouse roof, how easy that was? This is a bit higher, but it's the same thing." The soothing sound of his voice filled her and Swike forced a grin.

She barely remembered the descent, she was coughing so much. When they touched the ground, paws reached out to help her. Her bow and arrows were pressed into her grasp. Before she knew it, Spyn and Besse were gone, scaling the walls again. A few other squirrels were also acting to rescue any and all trapped Redwallers. To her surprise, Swike even recognized Gyis among them, the bell ringer finally getting into the action which this war was providing.

There were more than just squirrels active around the burning abbey though. A long line of creatures extended from the pond to the abbey building, passing buckets of water toward the flames. Many quick youngsters were on the abbey-side of that line and raced the water to where it was most needed. As quickly as one fire was being put out though, four more seemed to spring up in its place. The crows, untouchable by nets and nearly out of firing rang, continued to wing high above.

Most of the beasts around Swike made their way to the line, to help put out the fires, but Swike knew she couldn't help them. She couldn't risk getting wet. Still, she felt like she should be doing something. Without a second thought, Swike ran to the gatehouse, storing her satchel inside, and then made her way up to the battlements.

The real war was being waged here. With most of the Redwallers busy putting out fires and rescuing those trapped by the fire in upper stories, Lord Koron's army was finally overwhelming the walls. A siege tower taller than the battlements was only ten paces away and advancing. Grappling hooks were flying faster than the sentries could cut them and the arrows never ceased. Swike found a fairly long stretch of wall between two sentries, a mouse named Pim and a squirrel named Teeto. She only knew Teeto by name, but Pim, whose chosen weapon was a bow, greeted Swike warmly. "Glad of the help!" she called, smiling. She was drenched in sweat and there was no way to know how long she had been fighting, but she took the time to talk and even smile at the rat while setting an arrow to her bow. Swike found herself admiring the mouse, a mother of three. _I was gone after two hours up here! How can she talk so civilly?_

"Keep up the work!" cried out the deep voice of Brandy as Swike strung her bow. "Watch the tower! Shoot the beasts in front of it! They can't roll it over dead bodies! Shoot the beasts inside it!" The hedgehog was barreling her way behind the sentries, spinning a stone out of her sling every few paces, expertly always hitting her mark. "Why isn't Gyis ringing the bells?" she asked in exasperation. "Redwall might be burning, but we need more help up here!"

Swike watched a ferret fall out of the siege tower, her arrow in his chest, before turning around to hail Brandy. The hedgehog approached her swiftly.

"What is it Rosethorn?"

"Gyis isn't in the bell tower," spoke the rat.

"What!"

"She's climbing Redwall."

"Oh no," said the hedgehog. "Only one thing for it then." She raised her voice and began to jog back across the line. "Set up a yell as never before! Everybeast together! Let all Mossflower know of our battle and our need! REDWALL!"

In the next few moments, all of the sentries were calling the battlecry, shaking Redwall with their combined voices. Swike had never heard such a thing in all her life; the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The siege tower had stopped moving and even those vermin who were climbing up toward grappling hooks stalled a moment in fear. Swike took a deep breath, letting the cry fill her. "Redwall! Redwall! REDWALL!"

To the east, thunder boomed. As if on cue, birds rose up from the trees of Mossflower. Owls, robins, sparrows, and hawks. The sudden, unexpected reinforcements filled the sentries with hope and they valiantly kept up their battlecry, Swike just as enthralled as the next beast. The skies quickly became as much of a battlefield as was being fought on land. Birds on each side plummeted to earth. Fireballs rained down as well, but the crows were now being forced to drop them mostly over the vermin army. As one exploded onto the siege tower, the sentries let up a cheer. Adrenalin filling her at the sudden shift in the battle, Swike loaded her bow and shot arrow after arrow, her mind on the living bow in her paws, barely even taking in the yells in her throat or the fire raining down all around her.


	29. Rain

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Rain**

The muscles of Swike's arms felt like they were burning. Arrow after arrow sped off from her bow, always hitting its mark. _I'm back,_ a thought surfaced in her mind, but it quickly sank back down again. Thinking wasn't part of her existence. All of her attention was narrowed on the surging vermin below. Noise pressed on her ears, but she didn't spare the energy to tell a yell apart from a crash.

Momentarily, Swike grabbed for her knife instead of a new arrow. Leaning out far over the battlements, she sliced through the grappling hook which had been flung up over the wall right next to her. As the rope fell away, she snatched up the metal prong. The Redwallers would find use for it. In the next instant, she was shooting again.

She knew she was losing track of time, but a ticking sound seemed to take over her brain, nothing else coming to her conscious mind.

The lighting around her was constantly flickering. Redwall was still on fire, but just as many fires could be found now in the orchard, training grounds, Mossflower, and among the vermin army. And the skies were anything but clear. Birds amassed above, most of them non-crows, as the crows began to retreat far from the battle. One crow had even crashed into the battlements next to Swike, only to be slaughtered by Teeto before it would cause any harm or get away. A stray crow feather was caught in Swike's fur, just behind her ear, but she hadn't even noticed.

Finally, Swike was forced to stop. Reaching into her quiver, she found it empty. She had even used her note-carrying arrows. Not that she minded. They could kill just as easily as normal arrows. A cheer sounded behind her. With her attention no longer focused below, she was able to identify sound again, and this cheer had been one of success. Curiosity turned her around. Smoke billowed up into the sky. Many blackened windows proved to be the saddest sight Swike had ever beheld. And still, Redwall burned. Why were these goodbeasts cheering?

Swike flinched so dramatically that she nearly fell over. A droplet of water stood on the end of her nose. Panic rose inside of her as she shot fearful eyes to the heavens. Just then, lightning filled the sky, nearly blinding her. Thunder rumbled all around. Another raindrop hit her, this time on the shoulder.

The rat crouched down, pressing her back right up against the wall, but it offered her no cover from the rain. Another rousing cheer could be heard below. Rain was a blessing. It would put out the fires and slow or possibly even halt the battle. But for Swike, it could only spell one thing: death. She looked quickly one way and then the other. Maren was on the wall, Swike discovered, replenishing Pim's arrows. In the other direction, there was only the dead crow, Teeto's ears barely visible above a broken wing on the other side.

_Hide under the crow_, she thought desperately, but that was no answer to her predicament, and she dismissed it.

Swike turned her head back toward Pim and Maren. The young mousemaid left the older mouse and started toward Swike. The rat held up her arms in an attempt to shield her face from the drizzle. Futile, she knew, but she was running out of options, running out of time.

_Clang!_ A grappling hook came flying over the wall just above her head. Adrenaline went pumping through her veins. In desperation to live, in an intense need to not die at the paws of a Redwaller, Swike sprang up. Before she could be discovered, before her disguise could be completely washed away, before Maren could get a step closer, Swike had her knife out and was leaning over the battlements. Too far, intentionally too far. She began to lose her balance as her world was turned upside-down. She went spinning off the wall as Maren clipped her back paw in an effort to pull her back. Clinging to the rope with both front paws while still managing to hold onto her knife, she slid a third of the way down the rope. The burn bit into her paws, but she dare not let go.

"Rosethorn!" she heard a frantic voice from above. "Climb up quickly!"

Complying with what the Redwallers would expect of her, she began to climb, one paw over the other. Looking down, she could see a weasel trying to climb up behind her. While staring into the weasel's face, she reached up for a new pawhold with her right paw. Encumbered with her knife, she intentionally "accidentally" sliced the rope in half.

The fall happened much quicker than she had anticipated, but still, she had been expecting it. In the next moment, she lay on top of the weasel, completely stunned. The lack of movement below her told her the weasel had been killed in the fall. Darkness surrounded Swike so that, for a moment, she thought she had passed out, but that wasn't so. Vermin pressed in all around her, cutting off her view of the red stones only one step away and the cloudy sky far above.

Swike curled up into a ball, using her arms to protect her head. It would be stupid to be trampled to death, but she knew she lacked the strength to stand and escape. Just so long as nobeast stuck her with a pike or sword, she figured she'd be able to move again in a few minutes.

Even surrounded as she was by a press of vermin bodies, some alive and others dead or near death, the now steady rain was quickly drenching her. Suddenly, it hit her. She was a vermin among vermin. Feeling under her, she found the weasel's left paw and took his green wrist band, tying it around her own wrist. If anybeast knew the benefits of disguise and fitting in, it was her.

A rat tripped over her, swearing loudly. He stood back up, and turned around to give her a swift kick. Swike flinched at the kick, rolling away from her attacker.

"You shoul' ge' up if you ain't dead!" he said angrily, disappearing again into the crowd. With a groan, Swike slowly stood up, grabbing onto a ferret to steady her. The ferret in question shook her off in annoyance. She was then shoved and pushed in so many directions by various vermin that she nearly fell over again.

Three consecutive flashes of lightning momentarily stunned everybeast in the area, and Swike was able to locate Redwall. With strong determination, she began to mull her way through the rats, weasels, ferrets, and stoats, trying to get as far away from the goodbeast stronghold as she could. As she squeezed her way between various vermin, rubbing the excess, smeared plant dies from her face and fur, she found to her dismay that her bow had been cracked during her fall. With a saddened heart, she let it fall to the ground. Armed only with a short knife and empty quiver, it became even more important for her to escape the fray of battle. What if a goodbeast up on the wall shot her? What if a vermin beside her suspected her of being a goodbeast? She was still wearing Rosethorn's clothes, if nothing else.

"Swike?"

The young rat didn't recognize her name at first. It sounded foreign to her ears. For so long, she had answered only to 'Rosethorn.'

"Swike! It _is_ you!" Two paws snatched up her own, helping to pull her even further away from the battle. In the confusion of movement, Swike couldn't get a good view of her rescuer, but she thought that she recognized the voice. And then she knew.

"Swifcut!" she cried, practically pouncing at her brother's backside. He stopped long enough to let her throw her arms around him. He put a comforting arm around her, letting her bury her face into his chest. He smelled of wet rat, but Swike didn't care. Her heart felt like it was bursting. She wasn't used to feeling emotions like this. She began to sob.

"Swike, are you alright? Are you hurt? If somebeast hurt you, Lord Koron will punish them severely! Speaking of Koron, you really should report to him immediately. We weren't expecting you, but your reports are valued very highly. I can take you to his tent right now, sis."

He began to guide her again. The vermin around them thinned out drastically.

_Lord Koron? Will I never get away?_

_No, I won't, will I? I'm trapped in this life forever._

_Swike, spy and master of disguise._

She didn't know whether to cry harder, at her misfortune, or to dry her tears in preparation for a meeting with Lord Koron. In her split-second decision to jump over the wall and abandon Redwall, it hadn't occurred to her that she might have to face the brutish ferret so soon. Her shoulders sagged and she began to drag her paws across the ground, slowing their progress. Already, they were beyond firing range from Redwall. Swifcut halted and turned around, concern written all over his face.

"Swike? I can feel in your posture that you're unhappy." He glanced down at their paws, his wrapped in blue and hers in green. "I know it wasn't your choice to be here, but you are. As a captain in Lord Koron's army, I have to take you to him immediately. But as your brother," he gave her a nervous look, "I _think_ I could give you a rest first."

Swike sniffed her tears away. "Please," she said. The next thing she knew, Swike felt herself pulled into her brother's embrace, his cape thrown about her. He shuffled off, and though she couldn't see where they were going, Swike kept pace with him. When they finally stopped, Swike found herself inside a deserted tent. The firepit in the center, though long cold, still held a pot filled with some kind of stew. Swike's stomach growled. "I haven't eaten anything all day," she said in surprise, falling to her knees next to the pot and grabbing up a large spoon.

"Help yourself," she heard her brother say. "But I'm sure it's gone cold."

Swike didn't mind, and even though she had grown accustomed to Redwall's spectacular fare, she downed half the contents in the pot in a few minutes before rocking back on her heels and shooting a glance at Swifcut. He stood at the entrance, shadowed behind the flap as he watched those who passed outside. As if sensing her stare, he spoke. "Now that you're fed, we should go to Koron quickly. If anybeast else recognized you, we musn't delay." Swike was at his side again. Without another word, he grabbed her paw and dragged her out into the rain, now a steady downpour.

Swike shivered. She knew the rain couldn't hurt her, but she had valued being dry for so long that the wetness of it nearly overwhelmed her. Timidly, she set her gave upward, feeling the rain drown her face. With a horrible sucking sound, she went crashing down into the mud, Swifcut's grasp on her left paw the only thing keeping her from lying down full in it. With a grunt, she heaved herself back into a standing position.

"Watch where you're going, sis," Swike thought she could detect a smile on his face. Once he turned away again, she spit her tongue out at him in annoyance, wiping as much mud from herself as she could while they hurried along. She knew she'd have to let the rain deal with most of the mud and she resolved herself to watch the ground, and not the sky, the rest of the way to Lord Koron's tent.

She recognized said tent immediately. It was set far back from the field of battle, but not quite at the rear of the temporary vermin camp. A guard stood on either side of the tent flap. _Just as they always did when I was still in the army, _she thought. _But … what? What an odd thing to think. I'm still in the army now…_

"Captain Swifcut and spy Swike, requesting counsel with Lord Koron," Swifcut said in an authoritative manner. The guards neither moved nor looked in the direction of the two rats before them. It wasn't their job to admit anybeast inside. But it wasn't long before the tent flap opened, none the less. Two eyes could barely be seen in the darkness within.

"Enter!"

* * *

A/N: Yes, I 'm back to writing again. And I'm going to stick with it this time. Thank you so much if you've stuck with this story! I AM going to finish!

Regarding this chapter, please don't think that I'm going backwards in the plot or taking you in circles. I planned out this story well over a year ago. It's important for Swike to be among the vermin again. I think you'll find these next few chapters very interesting. I know I'm excited.


	30. Unsightly

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty: Unsightly**

A cold chill passed through Swike, but either Swifcut hadn't felt it or else he was very good at masking such feelings. He waltzed into the tent without losing his composure.

"Couldn't tough out the rain?" said a mocking voice. Swike knew it was Koron speaking to her, but her eyes were still adjusting to the dim lighting and she could make out no more than a dark blur near the middle of the tent.

"I'm sorry," she said. "My disguises wash away with water." She could see him now, sitting behind the table which was only too familiar to her. He had a look in his eyes which she had never seen before. It made her nervous.

"I found her in the tangle of battle, near the walls," said Swifcut. "I'm not sure how she got out of Redwall, but she did. I brought her here to you as quickly as I could."

"Thank you Swifcut," said Koron. "But your presence is no longer necessary. Swike and I have been long overdue for this meeting."

Swifcut squeezed Swike's paw quickly and then exited without another word. Swike's stomach twisted into a knot. She didn't like how things were going. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she stared at Koron, too scared to move or speak.

"Please Swike, sit." His voice was pleasant enough, but it did nothing to ease Swike, who sat down in front of the table as instructed. The warlord's eyes narrowed on her face and his expression grew grim. "Report!" he commanded.

For a panicked moment, she said nothing, her mind racing. Then the words jumped out of her mouth, "What do you wish to know?"

"How did you leave Redwall?"

"I fell off the wall. Well, it sort of started as a jump. Once the rain started coming down."

"Were you shooting? Is that why you were on the wall?"

Swike shifted a bit in her seat before replying. "I was shooting, alongside the goodbeasts. In my disguise, I had to, or else risk being found out."

"And how many vermin did you kill?"

Swike had been staring at the wood grain of the table. Now she looked up into the ferret's eyes. _He gave me permission to kill! I remember him clearly._ "I-I don't know."

His eyes flashed with anger. "Who's side are you on Swike?"

"I—" she gulped, "but I was under cover!" she exclaimed. "I went to bed late and got up early all the time. I snuck around and asked around and sent my information to you." Her voice rose in anger and volume. "And when the war started, I still did my best to spy and report. But there was this stupid squirrel who I think was on to me, so I always had to be careful. So I fought as a goodbeast would. You told me before I left to fight like what I looked like, and I looked like a mouse, so I fought like one." She took a deep breath, ready to continue her rant, but Lord Koron stopped her.

"I didn't ask you what you were doing," he said menacingly. "I asked you who's side you were on. When your mind starts wandering, what thoughts do you think? Where does your allegiance lie?"

Swike closed her mouth instantly, a lump forming in her throat. Images flashed behind her eyes. She saw Maren, crouched under a strawberry bush, her paws red with juice and a smile on her face. She saw Riss, competing with other archers in his regimen, the bow practically alive in his paws. She saw Lifil, charging into a stream after a serpent, tree branch held high above her head. She saw Swifcut, smiling at her across the room as her other two brothers and father sorted through a night's worth of pillaging. She saw Martin, standing in the weave of an old tapestry, but surveying those before him with eyes that were alive.

A croak issued from the back of her throat as she tried to speak.

"Swike?" Koron asked again, tempting her to defy him.

"I am on your side," she finally managed. "The Redwallers don't even know me as myself."

_Is he smirking at me?_

"If you're really on my side, then you have an odd way of showing it. How much help did you provide the army during your stay in Redwall? They are, even now, sitting quite comfortably on a treasure hoard of vittles and weapons. Every doorway in the wall is locked. They were warned before this war started and just today received reinforcements from the birds in the nearby woods."

Swike couldn't believe what she was hearing. How was any of this _her_ fault? "I've done everything you ever told me to," she protested. "And I still don't understand how the Redwallers were warned." She remembered tripping over Lifil that one night which set so much in motion. "Lifil just had a dream. I can't help that."

"Excuses, Swike. I wasn't aware that I placed a mindless worm in Redwall."

Swike bit her lip, knowing that she must take this insult in stride, though she didn't understand how she deserved it.

"Because if you had a _brain_," Koron continued, "then you wouldn't have needed to wait on my permission to poison the Redwaller's fare or my command to open a door. If you were on my side, then you would have done everything in your power to sabotage as well as spy.

"No. I can't trust you any longer Swike. You did everything you were commanded to do, but everything else you did was in the goodbeast's favor. I must-"

"I'm a rat," interrupted Swike. "A _vermin!_ You can't accuse me of such-" A flash of light sprang from Koron's paw. Swike dove off the right side of her chair, but not quick enough. A scream escaped her lips and her vision became red as pain swamped over her. There was talking, but she couldn't concentrate on what was being said, though she didn't think it was Koron. And then she heard the warlord once more.

"Fine, take her and I'll take some more time to think this over," he said. "I trust you won't let her out of your sight. Get her away from me."

Somebeast pulled her up from the floor. She nearly fell again, her paws clutching her head and her eyes pressed shut to escape the curtain of red that had fallen in front of her vision. She still wasn't sure what had happened.

As they stepped outside, the rain stunned her, and she opened her eyes. They stung. _Blood_, she thought weakly. _There's blood in my eyes. He threw a knife at me!_ Gingerly, she felt the left side of her head. It all ached, but she didn't know how bad she'd been cut yet. _It feels so … wrong._ She tried to get a look at who was holding her. The beast wore a black hood and cloak, heavy with the rain and mud. It wasn't Swifcut.

"What's going on?" she asked.

The hooded figure turned toward her. "Lord Koron is going to reconsider your loyalty. With time, I believe we can convince him that you are not a threat to him or the army. But there will be no forgetting that meeting. He cut off your ear, Swike." Raynat, for Swike was now certain it was him, pushed her onward through the rain. She didn't try to talk to him again yet. She could feel that he had told her the truth. Her left ear was gone. Stunned, she let Raynat shove her into a tent, her old tent, and start administering to her injuries. Shortly thereafter, Swifcut slipped inside.

"Oh Swike!" he exclaimed. "What did he do to you?"

"He cut off her ear," said Raynat shortly.

Swike's eyes were blurry with the pain, but she kept them on her brother. He made fists at the pronouncement of her injury. "I could cut his throat," he whispered.

"Enough!" barked Raynat. He tore up some rags and began to bandage her head roughly. "It looks like you'll have a small stub where your ear used to be," he told her. His voice almost sounded kind.

"Thank you," she mumbled. She was still in pain and she felt weak from the blood loss, but she would survive.

Raynat ignored Swike and turned on her brother. "What are you doing here? A captain should be with his unit during battle."

Swike was surprised that Swifcut would let the assassin speak to him that way. Surely he was higher in the army than Raynat was. "My unit isn't fighting right now. Crager and Antoz are fighting around Redwall."

"Excuse me," said the assassin. "I guess I lost track of time and didn't realize that the units changed already."

Swike whimpered, trying to lie down on the ground without hurting her head more. _I'm so confused! They're talking like they know each other. Like they know each other very well._

Swifcut rushed to her side, wadding up a blanket to place under her head. "Just rest Swike. Raynat here will take good care of you." Swike felt like laughing, remembering the battering she received at the paws of the assassin right before entering Redwall. "Just sleep."


	31. Rats

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-one: Rats**

When she awoke, Swike was first aware of a dull ache on the left side of her head. It took her a few muddled moments to remember what had caused the ache. Then her stomach felt leaden and she had to suppress the urge to throw up.

She had lost an ear. Sure, it was common for vermin to have old cuts and wounds, including missing body parts, but Swike had never envisioned that for herself. She had always been whole and perfect. She had been … beautiful.

Tears welled suddenly into her eyes at the reality of this grave loss.

"Swike, are you awake?" Swike brushed her tears away and struggled to sit up. Swifcut was right beside her. "Do you feel any better?"

Raynat was suddenly before them and began to change Swike's bandage.

"It just aches a little bit now."

"Well that's good!" said Swifcut with a smile.

Swike noticed that even though Swifcut sat on her left, she heard his voice coming from her right side. _Sneaking around will be much harder from now on._ Swike stiffened. _Oh no! My disguises! Why didn't I think of this before? Every disguise will be missing an ear now. Anybeast who knows me in one disguise will know me in all others._ She tried to visualize a one-eared Rosethorn. She knew the picture wouldn't solidify in her mind until she saw it in a mirror.

"So," said Swifcut, now addressing Raynat, "how are we going to make Lord Koron trust Swike again?"

"_We're_ not going to do anything. _I'm_ going to take care of it."

Swike gave Raynat a startled look. _Why is he going to help me?_ "What's going on?"

The assassin looked sharply from Swike to her brother. "You're sure we can trust her?"

"Of course!" said Swifcut, putting an arm around his little sister's shoulders.

"Swike," said Raynat, holding her eyes with a stern gaze. "Are you loyal to Lord Koron?" His face remained blank.

"Well, yes I am," said Swike nervously.

Raynat began laughing. The fur rose on the back of Swike's neck. She had never heard the rat assassin laugh before. "But of course you're not!" he said happily.

"But, I—" she looked at her brother for help.

"It's ok," he said. "We're not loyal to him either."

"Swifcut!" yelled Raynat. "She may be your sister, but you can't jump to conclusions like that! Information like this is very valuable. And while my time with Swike has convinced me that she is not happy being Koron's spy, what have you or she done to convince me that she is strong enough to stand up against him? Even if she doesn't like him, that isn't going to stop her from telling him about us."

Something new and unexpected was happening. In all her spying she had never actually found an uprising within the army, but she had apparently lived in the same tent as one the whole time.

"We can count on Swike," said Swifcut defensively.

"I can lie to Lord Koron," said Swike. "I've done it before."

"How many times?" asked Raynat quickly.

Swike wasn't expecting this question. For a moment, she was lost in thought, her face becoming redder and redder. "I'm fairly sure that I've lied to him twice," she said quietly.

"And what happened when you did so?"

Even though she wasn't looking at him, she could feel the assassin's eyes boring into her. "The first time … he drugged me. The second time, he cut off my ear."

"Oh, Swike!" said Swifcut, the alarm evident in his voice.

There was silence for a while. Then Raynat whispered, "I thought so." More silence. It was making Swike very uncomfortable. Then the assassin sighed deeply. Sneaking a peek at him, Swike saw that he was ruffling the fur behind his right ear as he pondered their situation. If things hadn't been so serious, she would have laughed at the picture he made.

"Only one thing for it," he said finally. "You should know everything. You're near vital to our cause anyway. Swifcut and I will just have to try our hardest to make sure you're not left alone with Koron again. We can cover any of your lies if we're with you, and there isn't enough time to teach you how to lie well enough on your own." The cloaked rat looked Swike up and down. "You may want to get comfortable. This will take a while."

Swifcut helped Swike to arrange the blankets so that she could lie back on them, but still see the assassin. After making sure his sister was settled, Swifcut apologized and ran out of the tent to attend to his captain duties. Raynat watched him leave and then dove right into his explanation.

"Eight seasons ago, I joined this army. Back then, it wasn't even half this size, but it was just as vicious and nearly as well known. I was trained in the ways of stealth, speed, and poisons by sources I would rather keep to myself, many seasons before joining the army. But my talents were not recognized when I entered. I found myself in the lowest rank, lumped in with the weakest beasts, receiving no respect of any kind. I fought to make a name for myself, but nobeast seemed to notice or care. Among thousands, what is one, however talented?

"After a squabble with a few other vermin in my unit, I was placed on food duty, no longer even allowed to train. I could have deserted then, in disgust (for there was nobeast who could really hunt down deserters at that time), but I decided to stay, seeing my chance. I knew of two other vermin also on food duty who planned to sneak away one night. I messed with the guards' food to make them sleep, and then I caught the two deserters and dragged them all the way to Lord Koron's tent and past the sleeping guards. We didn't catch Koron unawares, but I didn't get in trouble either. The two beasts I had caught were killed the next morning, before the whole camp, and I was promoted, to assassin. I've held that position ever since."

Raynat took a moment to smile at his ingenuity and accomplishments. Swike didn't see what any of this had to do with Raynat and Swifcut trying to usurp Lord Koron, but she was too fascinated with the story to even think of halting the assassin with a question. _I wonder if he even wanted the title of assassin_, she thought. _It sounds like Koron just gave it to him, like he gave me the title of spy._

"At first," continued Raynat, "I was too happy with my promotion to think much about how this army is run, but with time, it became impossible to ignore. There is a deeper reason for why I didn't rise in the ranking quickly than the fact that I was new to the army. Lord Koron, after all, always tries to promote those vermin who he feels deserve it. Naysta and you are two examples of quick promotions, like myself."

"Where's Naysta?" Swike asked suddenly. She didn't really want Raynat to quit telling his story, but she had just realized that she hadn't seen (or heard) the seer once since she left Redwall.

A lopsided smile graced the assassin's face momentarily. "She told Koron that the noise of battle was disturbing her meditation and interfering with her fortune telling. She has retreated into Mossflower Wood to find some peace.

"Though if you ask me, I think she just wanted to find someplace quiet to sleep. She couldn't stay asleep for more than five minutes from the moment we set up camp around Redwall."

"Oh," said Swike.

Raynat picked up where he'd left off, as if he hadn't been interrupted in the first place. "But there is an imbalance in power here, and upon entering the army, I found myself on the lower end of that power. I have a question for you, Swike. How much of the army do you believe to be rats?"

Swike thought back to the day when she stood before the army, disguised as Rosethorn. Each unit had marched past her to see her better. Now she wished she had paid a bit more attention to them. "A lot," she said. "Probably more than any other species."

The assassin nodded. "You're correct. There have always been more rats than any other beast in this army. Right now, rats make up between one third and half of the army. Now another question. How many captains are there?"

"Twenty," Swike answered quickly.

"And how many of those captains are rats?"

"I'm not sure. Six?"

"Four. There are four rat captains, of which your brother is one. I don't know how good you are at math, Swike, but those numbers do not represent anything close to balance. Besides four rats, the captains include nine weasels, six ferrets, and one stoat. On top of that, the warlord is a ferret and his second-in-command is a weasel. Next to rats, there are mostly weasels in this army. About one fifth of the army are ferrets, so there aren't too many of them. There are only about a hundred stoats.

"Is this all clear to you?"

The numbers didn't mean as much to Swike as they obviously meant to Raynat, so she tried to turn them into a picture in her head. A big brown patch in her mind represented the rats and took up nearly half of her vision. Another large section, though dwarfed by the brown, became the black of weasels. A small bit of orange showed her the scant amount of ferrets, and last of all, a tiny white dot showed the presence of stoats.

Next she visualized the captains, warlord, and second-in-command. Black now took up nearly half of everything with orange close behind. The brown of rats, up against them, looked small, and white remained a small dot.

"Only the stoats make sense."

"Yes," said the assassin.

"But Naysta isn't a rat, weasel, ferret, _or_ stoat."

"No, she is not. But there are less foxes than there are captains in this army. Anyway, neither of us is a fox. We only need to worry about how rats are treated, for that is what we are.

"Swike, us rats could take control if we wanted to. There are enough of us to do so. But when I joined the army, there was only one rat captain. Mutiny is a fine dream to have, but it will only succeed if it is more than a mob. It needs a leader. A leader and a plan and good timing. We have our leader and we have our plan, but we need our good timing. The rats need you to distract Koron into thinking that he's winning this war against Redwall so that his sight never strays from those red walls. Then it will be time for a new order."

Swike was stunned. _A rat uprising within the army? How did I never see this coming?_ She knew that everything the assassin had said about the army was true. At least, almost everything.

"But Swifcut," she argued. "He was in the army only a few weeks and then he was promoted to captain."

Raynat grinned. "That's how it appeared, isn't it? I'm glad that we fooled you, who know him so well. We fooled everybeasts else as well."

Swike blinked. "What? Fooled me? But he's a captain now."

Raynat shook his head. "He was never supposed to be. Koron didn't choose him to be captain. Every once in a while, things go awry, but Koron usually picks each new captain individually. Then, he stages a 'tournament,' the winner of which will become captain. But he already knows who will win. In the last tournament, Spirtz was supposed to win and become the next captain."

"Spritz?" Swike asked. "The weasel who Swifcut fought in the finals?"

"Yes. She was more talented than him, wouldn't you agree? She was quicker and more nimble. He was stronger, but strength is no guarantee of a win. Spirtz was going to be a captain, right under her brother, Jaoto, second-in-command."

"So they _were _siblings."

"Yes. There were three of them. Spirtz' other brother is still alive, though she pretended to kill him in the test of loyalty."

"So nobeast killed him after the tournament? I wondered what would happen when he was found to be alive."

Raynat gazed at Swike with a little more respect. "So you're not completely daft, I see."

Swike jut out her chin in defiance, which wasn't easy to do with her head bound. "Of course I'm not daft! I think I'm very smart."

"We shall see." He paused momentarily, thinking about something. "I didn't want Spirtz to become captain," he said softly. "There are already too many weasel captains. It wasn't easy to drug her food, but I did so. It didn't hit her till she was engaged in combat with Swifcut. But she was still a very good choice for captain, and she held her own for longer than most beasts in her situation would have. But the slow-acting poison I gave her still did its job. She was weaker and some of her moves were sloppy, resulting in Swifcut disarming her easily. And at the very end, when she should have won, she grabbed the wrong knife, the fake knife. And she died."

Swike stared blankly at the assassin.

"And with her death, a new rat became captain. A rat whom Koron knew nothing about, and therefore did not regard as a threat to his weasel favorite when I suggested having him compete for captain.

"I heard Swifcut tell you he wished to become captain. I just made sure his wish came true."


	32. Noises

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-two: Noises**

The army was restless. Due mostly to the rain, the battle had been forced to a halt. For a short time, Swike trailed Raynat through the ranks. The sight of the two of them, assassin and spy, demanded respect, and everybeast kept their distance. But Swike would have rather remained in their tent. She felt exposed outside, as if Koron could step up behind her at any moment and cut her throat before she had time to react. Also, she didn't fancy getting drenched.

As Raynat stopped to cast a critical eye on a few vermin nearby, Swike nearly crashed into him and was taken by a fit of sneezing. By the time she had herself under control, the assassin had walked on without concern and she skipped after him, careful to avoid any puddles or patches of deep, soft mud.

At first, Swike thought Raynat meandered around without any structure, and she wondered how one beast could possibly keep track of all the vermin in the army and claim that none had deserted, but after a while, she thought she had detected a pattern in Raynat's route. The rat assassin had mapped out circular groups of tents in the camp in his mind, and he would start at the outskirts of one area and spiral to its center before moving on to the next group of tents. In fact, to most, the tents appeared to be grouped with no semblance of order. And yet, this random arrangement had been turned into winding circles by Raynat.

"Pay attention," he mumbled to Swike as they neared the edge of the encampment. It had been the first thing out of his mouth since they left the tent. Swike did as she was told, surveying her surroundings to find what Raynat wished for her to notice.

In the distance, behind gray curtains of rain, she got her first good look of Redwall since leaving the abbey behind. The bottom half of the walls were stained brown, from mud-covered vermin attempting to scale the walls while the battle still raged. Streaks of red could still be seen in odd places, apparently from the rain washing the walls clean. Along the bottom, it was impossible to tell where the ground ended and the abbey began. The broken bodies of the dead lay in piles around the wall, many submerged in the debris of discarded weapons and churned up mud.

Swike wrenched her eyes away from the carnage, upward to the walltops. From time to time, a head would shoot up, fully exposed, and then disappear again. It was impossible, from so far away, to ever ascertain what sort of beast it was through the rain. Squinting, Swike noticed one last thing. Atop the bell tower sat a huge bird. A hawk, she thought.

She would have stood there much longer, enthralled by the sight, but Raynat stepped in front of her to gain back her attention, and she turned away from Redwall to continuing following him.

* * *

Swike awoke the next morning, knowing instantly that something was different. It took her a moment to realize what that something was. Then she ran to the tent flap, shoving it open. Water droplets flew from the flapping canvas, but none now fell from the heavens. It had rained well into the night, but now the skies were bright and clear. Soon, Redwall would be under attack again. 

Sadness gripped her heart. _What did they ever do to deserve this? They're so peaceful, and yet war has still found them._

Raynat appeared at her side as if by magic. He had already made his morning rounds throughout the camp. "Redwall does not sleep," he said seriously. "A racket can be heard within, but we cannot figure out what's going on. Hawks and sparrows circle the abbey, making it almost impossible for crows to get close enough to see down into the abbey grounds.

"Efforts to clear the dead away are also difficult. The abbey walls are crowded with archers and sling-shoters." He paused. "Swike, what could Redwall be up to?"

Swike coughed in surprise. "But I told you of Redwall's war plans last night," she protested. "If they're doing something new, then I can't have known about it."

The assassin scratched his chin. "They're up to something," he mumbled.

His musing prompted Swike into action. "I want to help," she said. "Really, I do. But I can't tell you anything from here. Maybe if I were closer, I could figure out what the Redwallers are doing."

Raynat nodded. He turned and ran along the muddy path. Swike took a deep breath and sprinted after him. _I can't believe he's running! This has to be bad. Redwall, what are you doing?_

* * *

The two rats skidded to a halt next to the last row of tents, Swike nearly falling down. She leaned over, gasping for air. 

"Do you hear that?" asked Raynat evenly.

Swike could only hear her own rasping. Making a conscious effort to quiet her breathing, she stood up straight and looked toward Redwall. She could see that the vermin were hard at work dragging the dead away from the abbey, though many of them died trying. As she saw a weasel, dragging two of his kind behind him, drop with an arrow in his back, she was appalled. Her mouth hung open with shock.

"Swike, what's wrong?"

"They … I … but … Redwall …"

The assassin's paw came down over her eyes. "Don't look," he said coolly. "Just listen. What are they up to?"

"They're … they're killing … that weasel."

"This is war. There is death in war. Can't you hear the noise from within the abbey walls?"

Now, Swike could hear the noises she had come to hear, but she didn't care. _I don't understand. He was just carrying the dead. Just carrying the dead. He wasn't attacking. I thought they were peace-loving. How could they?_

"Swike?"

_Am I the only beast who cares?_ Swike didn't even feel the tears running down her face. _If this is what they're like … when pushed into a corner … just like vermin …_

Her mind focused on the sounds, just under the general noise of battle.

_Chop. Chop. Crunch. Bang. Chop. Clang._

"Making something," she murmured.

"Yes. But what are they making? We have grappling hooks and siege towers, but what could the Redwallers be making? What do they have the materials or tools to make? What have they made in the past?"

The dusty insides of the gatehouse flashed before her eyes, but they were of no use. She had never found the time to peruse the many records within. The conversation at the war meeting came back to her as well. Redwall's lack of a Recorder had been mentioned then.

"They're no longer in touch with their past," she whispered.

_Bang. Chop. Chop. Thump._

"This must be something new." She hung her head; Raynat took his paw back.

"New is bad," said Swifcut. Swike jumped; she hadn't heard him approach.

"You don't want to be seen with us too often," said Raynat dryly. "It will attract unwanted attention."

"When I see my sister sprint past my campfire, it makes me worry."

Swike grinned in spite of herself.

"Why isn't the archer regimen here?" asked Swifcut, surveying the battle in front of them. "They could keep most of the archers on the wall down while we clean up the battlefield for the next attack."

"I haven't informed Koron of any of this," said Raynat, motioning toward Redwall and the efforts being made before it. "I got Swike first. I wanted to present our full knowledge of what is happening. We can go see him now."

Swike went stiff. Her brother noticed.

"Does Swike need to come?"

"Yes," said the assassin. "I think she does. We can't avoid this for too long."

As they left, Swike kept her head downcast, and she walked closer to Swifcut than Raynat. When Lord Koron's tent came into view, she slowed down. Swifcut slowed with her.

"Don't do this," he muttered.

Swike nodded slightly, and picked up her head and her pace. The next thing she knew, she was lying face down in the mud, a cold pain racing across her shoulders. She heard shouting and the ring of a sword being drawn. Raynat gripped her wrists and dragged her forward. The pain in her shoulders exploded as he did so, and she screamed. He dropped her wrists instantly.

"You're alive!" He sounded surprised.

Black clouds threatened to overtake her, crouching on all sides. She whimpered, wanting and not wanting them to come.

Rough paws put her into a sitting position, and her face was wiped clean of the mud. She could feel somebeast pressing mud onto her shoulders. It made them feel slightly better, so she didn't protest.

She lacked the energy or the desire to turn her head toward the sound of swords clashing nearby, but within seconds, the two dueling beasts had moved to just in front of her. Her vision blurry, she recognized one of them: Swifcut. The thin weasel meant nothing to her though. His clothes didn't even fit him right and she was sure she had never seen him before. She couldn't figure out why he was fighting her br—

_A green and blue wrist band! Jaoto, second-in-command!_

She jerked in surprise, the pain in her shoulders firing up again. Jaoto was glaring at her. Then he blocked Swifcut's latest sword thrust and turned all his attention on the rat captain. "I'm going to kill your sister, just as you killed mine!" he bellowed.

Then Swike's world became black.

* * *

IMPORTANT A/N: I have decided to give up the internet for Lent. This means that I will not be posting new chapters during that time (though I do plan to write more). Expect the next chapter on Easter (April 8)! 


	33. Spoon fed

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-three: Spoon-fed**

A slight jingle-tinkle sound could be heard off in the distance. It swayed back and forth like some hypnotic, eerie tune from out of a nightmare. And yet, it was almost familiar…

A pungent odor filled the air. It was like the scent of boiling fat mixed together with a strong spice that had been left to smoke for hours on end. And yet, it invited one to clear their head…

A stale taste invaded her consciousness. Dry and paste-like, it irked her, driving her mind toward one thought. _I need water._

Swike worked at opening her eyes, the effort sending a sharp pain through her forehead. Flakes cracked away from her eyes as the lids moved, the sound and feel of them sharp. But she couldn't see a thing. All was darkness, and her slow mind grasped the possibility of blindness. The young rat's mouth slid into a lazy smile. She wasn't sure why, but being blind, after everything that had happened to her, carried too much irony to not now laugh.

A swirling sensation fell upon her; Swike shut her eyes, and her mouth fell back into a lax frown. The nausea stayed with her, her world rocking to and fro without mercy. Troubled, Swike managed to reclaim sleep.

* * *

"Come now, honey. I thought you woke up earlier. You must wake up and eat." The soft words broke into Swike's mind, surprisingly clear. They were female, but beyond that, she couldn't figure out who was talking to her.

A rough fabric passed over her eyes, rubbing them clean. Next, a few drops of water fell on her chapped lips. She soaked up the moisture greedily, opening her mouth wider despite the cracks which formed and started to bleed. Even the salty taste of her blood, she welcomed onto her dry tongue.

"That's good, Swike! Drink a bit more for me."

When she was done drinking, a gentle paw dried her mouth and chin of blood and water.

"Can you open up your eyes?"

Swike answered by fluttering her eye lids and then opening them slightly. A piercing light reached her pupils and she squeezed her lids tight once more. With a little more coaxing, Swike inched her eyes open. The beast watching over her washed a bit of water over her face. At first, Swike could only pick out blurry objects, but as her eyes began to focus, she actually recognized her surroundings.

Naysta knelt next to her in the tent which the two of them shared with Raynat. The vixen's eyes were bloodshot and her face looked thinner and wearier than Swike remembered. While she still wore layers of fine cloth and tangles of jewelry, it all hung off her; she had lost a drastic amount of weight. Her fur stuck out in clumps, no longer possessing the gloss Swike was certain used to be there.

The vixen smiled. "I'm glad you're better. They thought you weren't going to make it. But I told them … I told them … I Saw … that you would be well." Her words lacked the conviction they had once held, and as the seer spoke of Seeing, her eyes moved from side to side nervously.

The fox forced a smile. "Let me help you up, honey. I'm sure you're starved."

Swike suddenly became painfully aware of her empty stomach. Her whole body was weak, tired, and stiff. Yet she knew she was on the verge of numbness. Naysta wrapped one arm around the middle of Swike's back and another behind her head, careful not to touch the rat's upper back or shoulders. Swike realized that she was heavily bandaged, but there was little pain.

The rat grabbed hold of her footpaws once she was in a sitting position and didn't let go, afraid she would fall backward and hurt herself more. She turned confused eyes on the seer, who began to spoon-feed her, but she lacked the strength to talk yet.

"You've been on your back only a day," said the vixen, lifting the spoon up to Swike's mouth. "Your cut has healed enough to put pressure on it. Your fever finally broke a few hours ago, though last night, I think you stirred for a bit. But I could be wrong; it was very dark." Naysta quickly cleaned off Swike's chin with a rag, as broth dribbled out of the side of her mouth. "But you've been asleep for three days."

Swike started, nearly tumbling backwards. _Three days?! But so much can happen in three days!_ She started coughing and Naysta helped her to calm back down and drink some water.

"W-wh…" Swike tried to whisper.

"I'm sure you have loads of questions, Swike, but you don't need to know anything right now. You're conscious, and that's wonderful, but you're still weak. I don't need you getting all worked up." The vixen held Swike's eye, her look very stern and powerful. "For now, be quiet and eat. Then I need you to sleep again."

Swike's mind buzzed with questions, uncertainties, and worry, but she did as she was told. In truth, she barely had the energy to simply sit there and eat. Before long, Naysta changed the bandages on the rat's back and helped her to lie down again. Swike slept.

* * *

The noise of battle roused Swike from her nap. She could see the sun shining in through the tent flap, meaning it must be past noon. She was certain that it was the same day.

She didn't turn her head to check, but she was fairly sure nobeast was in the tent with her. She thought back to … three days ago. It barely made sense to her. Jaoto had slashed her back. She hadn't heard him coming up behind her. Then Swifcut had fought him while Raynat struggled to stop Swike's wound from bleeding.

Her forehead creased with worry. _Swifcut… Is he alright? Is he in another tent, heavily bandaged and asleep? Is he dead? Is Jaoto dead? Is that even possible, for Swifcut to have won?_

A loud crash in the distance, followed by yells, brought her mind around to the war. _If they're still fighting, then Redwall hasn't lost yet. Today would be … the sixth day of the war. But they stopped fighting for a day because of the rain._ Swike now remembered the noises from within the abbey. _They probably finished what they were making. We must know what it is by now._

Her stomach grumbled. _I hope Naysta comes back soon. I'm hungry. But … what happened to her? Didn't Raynat say she retreated into Mossflower to get some sleep? But she's back in the camp, and she looks like she hasn't slept or eaten in a long time._

"Are you awake?" Raynat stood over her. She didn't know where he had come from.

Swike blinked up at him, and the assassin sat next to her and pulled her up into a sitting position.

"I'm glad you're finally healing up," he said, stirring the soup before spooning some out for her. Swike smiled in spite of herself to see the rat assassin offering to feed her, but she ate gratefully. "Did you know anything of catapults?"

Swike moved her head slightly to indicate she did not.

"Well, they aren't catapults, really. But the Redwallers have something which can throw large objects. The fireballs we dropped on them have been thrown back at us, though no longer flaming." Raynat paused. "Lord Koron is furious. We think the Redwallers have established communication with some of their allies in Mossflower. A few of the robins keep getting past our crows. And Skipper is nowhere to be found. One of the units sent to kill him and his followers returned back to the army shortly after you were cut down. The otter and his band must be hiding somewhere, and they know this land much better than we do."

"Raynat!" Naysta stood in the tent flap, silhouetted by the sun in such a way that her fur almost looked as if it were on fire. As she marched into the tent, her anger seemed to gush out before her. "Why are you antagonizing my patient?" she snapped.

"If you took one good look at her," said the assassin, "you'd see that she wants information. Wouldn't you want the same if you had slept for three days? Anyway, these are things she needs to know. Koron will want her back to work soon enough."

Naysta wrestled the bowl of soup out of the assassin's paws. "I'll hear nothing about her going back to work at this time! She's weak. She can't even talk yet!"

Swike stared wide-eyed at the two of them as they bickered. If she didn't know any better, she'd say they were fighting over the right to take care of her, but that didn't make any sense.

In the end, the seer won, and Raynat retreated back to his corner of the tent. As quiet settled back on them all, Swike knew she needed to get her question in before a spoon was thrust in her mouth.

"Is-" she licked her lips. "Is Swifcut…"

A very serious look fell on Naysta's face. Despite her annoyance at Raynat for talking to Swike earlier, the seer started talking. "Whenever the second-in-command and a captain begin fighting, none must interfere." She began feeding Swike where Raynat had left off. "Unless the captain backs off, the fight between them is for the position of second-in-command." Naysta gazed down into the bowl of soup, sloshing it around thoughtfully. "They were both heavily injured when the battle ended, but neither of them was dead. Two strong vermin, indeed. But Jaoto died that night. Swifcut has been acting as second-in-command since then."

Relief spread through Swike and she continued eating without further questions. She chose to ignore the seer's ill ease at this change in power within the army.

When the soup was gone, Naysta insisted that Swike get more sleep, and neither Raynat nor Swike was about to argue with her. The vixen had quickly become a force to be reckoned with in their little tent. Swike knew she would have to wait till later for more information.


	34. Crazed

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-four: Crazed**

"SWITCH UNITS!"

"Move it!"

"Watch out for-"

"Pick up those arrows."

"Aaaarrgh!"

Swike sat silently, watching the commotion on the edge of the battlefield. She wasn't sure she should be here, so close to the battle so soon after her injury, but Raynat had forced her. He didn't even let Naysta bully him out of the outing.

"She only woke up yesterday," Naysta had complained hysterically.

"And if everything goes according to plan," Raynat had replied, "she won't be here tomorrow."

Once the two beasts had helped Swike to stand, the young rat surprised them all by walking on her own. Nothing was wrong with her legs, after all.

So now she watched Redwall from afar. Two large objects had already been lobbed over the walls to crash down onto the army as she watched. Boiling caldrons had also been dumped on the vermin who tried to beat their way through Redwall's gates.

Swike felt unsafe. Raynat had determined that she was well outside of arrow or sling-shot range, but that was no guarantee for her. Every so often, she shot nervous eyes at the air above. The sound of wings, though much softer than the roar of battle, seemed amplified in her ear. Most of the birds near her were crows … but not all of them.

The breeze lifted up on Raynat's cloak. The assassin stood next to Swike like a sentinel. His presence was her only comfort.

A beast sat down next to Swike heavily. She jerked away painfully, nearly startled out of her fur.

"Iz okay," a raspy voice replied. "Iz ne, Sswik. Iz Sswicutt."

Swike wanted to cry at the sight of him. It was, indeed, her brother Swifcut, but the gallant, young rat she had known was no more. Fine cuts riddled his face. His lower lip had been cut in half. Bandages remained around his neck, masking whatever damage had been done there. His left arm hung in a sling, paw visible seemingly for the sole purpose of showing off his green and blue wrist band. Even his eyes had changed, for she could see within them the weight of his recent battle and current status.

"What are you doing here?" barked Raynat sternly. The assassin hadn't moved a muscle and still stared at the red stone building in the distance. "I told you to remain with Koron. He's your best protection from rouge captains who are hungry for your new position, until you gain back your strength."

Swifcut's eyes narrowed as he stared up at the cloaked rat. "Hi'm sstong, Reynit. I need ta tak wiv Sswik, afore sse iz gone."

Swike strained to understand what her brother was saying. His beautiful, deep voice had been twisted into this raspy hiss, foreign to Swike's ear. He turned to her now.

"De carehul, Sswik. Koron wanz ta vut ya 'ack in Redall."

"He wants me to go back into Redwall?"

"Yeh. 'Ut I tink zat iz too danguruss. Ze Redalls vill no tursst ya. Yu hav veen gone too lung. Izz sspicous."

A memory came back to Swike of a squirrel, eyeing her from across the room. What would Spyn do if Rosethorn came back to Redwall? Swike was more certain than ever that he, and his sister Gyis, were her greatest threat lurking inside of the abbey. They were the only two who hadn't immediately warmed up to Rosethorn … the mouse.

"Vonise ne, Sswik. Vonise ne zat ya vill de carehul."

Swike forced herself not to grimace at the sound of Swifcut's voice, and nodded. "I promise," she whispered.

"Dis iz za lasst tine I cun tak ta ya."

"That's right," interrupted Raynat, still gazing forward.

Swifcut's face fell at the assassin's swift agreement. Swike bit her lip, forcing herself to hold back her tears. Swifcut, who had always rushed to her aide in a moment's notice, was saying good bye.

"Joto iz gone," Swifcut's eyes flickered in Raynat's direction. "Zo I need ta ve wiv Koron."

Swike gasped, realization dawning on her. _Jaoto died during the night… And this unnerved Naysta… But he didn't die as a result of his fight with Swifcut… Raynat killed the second-in-command when no one else was watching!_

"Gud luc, Sswik," Swifcut paused, looking down at his left paw. "I luv ya."

Tears slid down Swike's face. Her body shook with silent sobs, opening up the cut on her back so that it bled anew. Painfully, Swike raised one paw to brush the tears off her face. When she opened slightly-blurry eyes once more, her brother was gone.

A wordless cry escaped from her mouth.

"I told him never to approach you again." Raynat sounded annoyed. "But he did so anyway. I can't believe he could be so eager to endanger our plans. I won't see seasons of work wasted." The rat began pacing in front of where Swike sat, jerking his cloak around himself moodily.

Suddenly, he stopped pacing and spun on Swike. "But you understand now, don't you? The second-in-command," a light seemed to gleam out from the depths of the assassin's eyes, "is a _rat!_" A shiver went down Swike's spine. She had never seen the cool-headed assassin acting like this before. He could barely contain his glee.

But she was fading fast. Black blood coated her back, and she felt as if her heart had been ripped out by this cruel, unexpected farewell from her brother. She could feel the swirling dark threatening to take over again. Had Raynat, in his ecstasy, even noticed?

Black.

* * *

Swike could hear muffled voices in the distance. Then one sounded clearly.

"I _told_ him! I _told_ him so!"

A sigh.

"But there's no help for it. Not when Koron issues orders." Paws gripped Swike's shoulders and shook her slightly. "Wake up now, Swike. I've done what I could for your injuries. The rest will be for the Redwallers."

Swike forced herself to rouse. Her head was throbbing slightly from the abnormal amount of sleep she'd been receiving lately.

Naysta let go of Swike and busied herself with setting out bowls and roots. Swike blinked in astonishment as recognition dawned on her. These were the herbs she used to create disguises. But what were they doing here? She had left her satchel in Redwall.

"What-"

The fox caught Swike's eye. "You must be confused still. Lord Koron has ordered that you resume your position as spy. He has no more arrows for you. You must remain in Redwall for three days, then find a way out and report."

"But-," Swike crawled feebly forward. "My herbs?"

"Raynat found these for you. He said they would do."

Swike reached for a bowl. To put on Rosethorn … so familiar. Her heart ached to go back to Redwall. Despite her confusion, her anger, her sorrow, she wanted to go back.

"But how? The walls…"

Naysta shook her head. "That's for Raynat to tell you. I … I can't See … how." The fox hung her head. Again, Swike was struck by how weary she appeared. "You wrote once, that there was a tapestry…"

_Martin_, thought Swike. "Yes."

"And in the tapestry, a mouse?" Naysta looked up eagerly. "Wielding a big sword?"

"Yes," Swike continued, puzzled.

Tears started to slide down the vixen's face. Swike's jaw dropped. "I've seen him!" Naysta half-screamed. Terror coated her words. "He won't let me sleep! My stomach can't keep food down. He blocks my Sight!"

Swike's heart pounded against her chest. Her body remained rigid, in front of the manic fox. _What is going on? This, this can't be! But Lifil … and her dream. Martin's eyes too._ A cold chill passed through her. _Is it real? Are there forces which can't be seen? Can the dead touch the living or the future the present? Impossible! And yet… there is no mistaking her words. She is telling the truth, or at least the truth as she knows it. Naysta is either crazy … or else she is a Seer._

"I can't escape him! I've tried everything. Dances, potions, smoke, talismans. He tells me that Redwall will win this war. But that's insanity! How could they possibly win against so many?"

_Rats._

"Swike, surely you can think of something. You've been inside Redwall. How can we beat them, for sure?"

An image of Maren, lying on the ground with blood trickling out of her mouth and a blank stare on her face flashed before Swike's eyes. The young mouse had been so plainly dead in the picture that Swike nearly gagged. _Where did that thought come from?_

"You have to help me, Swike. If I could predict just one thing for Lord Koron, and if that could help him win this war then-" The vixen stopped suddenly, eyes widening. "Of course," she exclaimed. "The serpent!" She sprang up in such a hurry that she kicked some leaves up into Swike's lap. In a moment, she was gone.

Swike found herself alone, heart racing. The bowl she had been holding slipped from her paws to clink against another. She jumped, breathing sharply.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye. Swike turned to confront it immediately.

A mirror.

_That's right. I must become Rosethorn once more._

With determination, Swike focused on getting her disguise right. She couldn't think of Naysta, slowly losing her sanity. She couldn't think of Swifcut, leaving her. She couldn't think of Raynat, soon to inform her about reentering Redwall. She couldn't think about a slithering, silent, sinister, speedy, serpent…


	35. Changing Camp

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-five: Changing Camp**

_See me! I'm right here, so just see me. Find me, please!_

Swike lay under a willow tree, partially hidden by hanging branches and tall grasses. She wore Rosethorn's garments, though they were nearly unrecognizable, tattered, muddied, bloodied, and worn. Raynat had helped her in cutting the back so that it looked as if she had been wearing the clothes when Jaoto slashed her. Then he had taken off her bandages, ripping them forcefully from her skin, leaving her a bloody mess. He left her to cut off part of her tunic and bind her own wound, since it would look suspicious if Rosethorn had had any assistance in taking care of her injuries. Swike had done a sloppy job and she lay in real pain, waiting for some goodbeast to find her.

She tried to think of the future, of somebeast finding her and taking her into Redwall. She tried to think of what she would do, what she would say, to convince them she was not a threat. But her mind kept reverting back. The last time she had seen Naysta, the vixen had been rummaging through some things in the back of the tent, mumbling to herself, half mad. From time to time, she would hiss loudly, causing Swike to jump with fright.

It had been a relief when her guards arrived to escort Swike out of the camp … until she got a look at their faces. Three among them were from the archer regimen. A tall rat, bow strung in his paws with an arrow placed expertly to the string, spared a second to look at the disguised rat before shooting his eyes at the sky, where they belonged. Swike had almost forgotten all about Riss, but now, with her stomach lagging behind her and him standing in front of her, she couldn't help but notice his presence. All of her memories of their time together came back. Shooting by his side, laughing next to the fireside, watching the captain tournament together.

_What disguise was I wearing then?_ Too much had happened in their time apart, and her current injuries demanded too much attention. She couldn't remember. Struggling with her memories and her forgetfulness, she had simply stared at the back of Riss' head the entire way. On the edge of the camp, right before the trees of Mossflower, her guard had stopped. The captain with them spoke for the first time.

"Swike, we believe Skipper is near here. Our forces have pulled back from the trees. This is where we leave you."

"I understand," Swike had replied, getting back into practice with Rosethorn's voice.

Riss flinched, stealing another look at the beaten up mouse next to him. And then she knew. _I was Tyn the stoat! And Tyn has the same voice as Rosethorn! I can't believe he recognized my voice after so long!_

Hoping she had been the only beast to see the rat archer flinch, Swike strode boldly into the forest. She would have sworn that she felt eyes watching her as she searched for a suitable spot to lie.

And she had found a spot. Near enough to the place where she fell off the wall, yet far enough from the battlefield that she might not look suspicious. Raynat had helped her to formulate a story, and she rehearsed it yet again in her head.

_When I fell off the wall, it was so congested that I could barely move. None of the vermin were paying much attention to the beasts around them. They were all looking at the top of the wall. We all looked about the same in the rain anyway. So I pushed my way through, trying to keep my head down. But when I came under the trees, somebeast must have noticed I was a mouse. A knife shot next to my head, taking my ear with it. My head was so cloudy with pain that I could barely fight back. I managed to kill the vermin, but not unscathed. My ear was easy enough to treat, but the cut on my back was harder to reach. A few times, I became unconscious, lying under the trees, losing more and more blood. I don't know how much time has passed nor how I survived so long. I guess I'm just lucky._

Swike hoped Raynat's plan would work out. This area had been lacking in activity during the battles so far, and what fighting had occurred had been in favor of the Redwallers, probably due to the branches obscuring them from view. So Koron had ordered his troops to retreat from the spot. He was willingly giving Skipper a way back into Redwall, through the eastern wall gate. If Skipper's scouts were any good, they would find Swike on their way inside. Then it would all be up to her.

A twig snapped near Swike's footpaw. _Snake!_ she thought, turning her head quickly to look. A young otter stood above her, a rock held in her upraised paw. She sighed.

"You're a mouse!" The otter immediately crouched next to Swike's side. She looked into her face. "Rosethorn!? What are you doing here? Why aren't you in Redwall?"

_How does she know my name? Who is this girl?_

"What have you found, Jennet?"

_Jennet? The fourth girl who used to room with Lifil, Maren, and Gyis? The girl who went with Skipper when Lifil was not allowed to?_

"I found Rosethorn. She came to Redwall shortly before we left. She was with the dibbuns when the serpent took Shelby. She's injured, Char!"

Another otter, only a season or two older than Jennet, appeared next to them.

"I remember Rosethorn," he said, gently lifting Swike from the ground. "I helped carry her into Redwall when she arrived." To Swike, he said, "I don't know how you got out here, but it seems like I'm starting a hobby of carrying girls around."

Jennet punched him playfully in the arm, both of them laughing as if at an inside joke. _Don't they realize we're in the middle of a war?_

"Now you've got to help me carry her," Char said to his companion.

Swike allowed them to lift her up and carry her away. The two otters continued to chat, thought quietly, as they went along.

"It's your lucky day," Char directed to Swike. "Skipper and Log-a-Log think we'll be able to beat our way into Redwall tonight. Then I'm sure my pal Ronn can fix you up in the infirmary."

"We all know he's going to be the next Infirmary Keeper," put in Jennet.

"And I'll be the next Carrier around here."

"Oh Char, stop it! I think you'll be the next Skipper."

"Really?" Char grinned. "Then are you going to become the next Carrier?"

"Oooo! You!! Can't you ever be serious, Char? There's no such thing as a Carrier! And it was completely an accident when I tripped the other day, and I didn't need to be carried at all."

"We're here," announced Char. A short beast wearing a yellow headband approached the group. "Good evening, Log-a-Log."

"Who is this?" asked the shrew.

"This is Rosethorn," said Jennet. "She's from Redwall. We found her near the edge of Mossflower."

"Are you sure she can be trusted?" Swike flinched as a short rapier prodded her in the side.

"Oh, don't hurt her, Log-a-Log! She's already injured!" Jennet checked to make sure Swike hadn't been cut as she and Char lay her down next to some packs.

An even shorter shrew scampered up to peer down at the new creature. She scrunched up her face in disgust. "She smells of blood," the young shrew complained. "I don't like her. Why is she here? Father said we should let nobeast into our camp. I thought the squirrels were keeping an eye on things," she shot an annoyed glance at the tree branches overhead.

"Come now, Gammy," said Char. "Have a heart. She's one of our mates. We knew her in Redwall. And we are here to help Redwall, right?"

Gammy made her paws into fists and stuck out her lip at the otter. "I do too have a heart!" she squeaked. Before she could lob herself at Char, Log-a-Log broke in between them.

"No fighting in my camp!" he shouted. He turned to face Gammy, holding her paws in his own. "Gammy, hun, you should know better than this. Go over and sit with your brothers."

For a second, it looked like the shrew was about to protest, but she let her shoulders slump, in the face of Log-a-Log. "Yes, Father," she mumbled, leaving the group.

Log-a-Log turned back toward the problem at paw. "Char, find Skipper. I want to hear from him that this mouse is safe. If she isn't-" the shrew leveled his rapier at Swike's throat. Forcing herself not to gulp, Swike pressed her eyes closed, barely comforted by Jennet's paw resting on her brow.

It felt like forever for Skipper to arrive, but Swike knew it hadn't been long at all. The seasoned otter coughed politely before stepping between Log-a-Log and Swike, gently pushing the short rapier to the side. Swike's eyes opened instantly, delighted to see the Skipper.

"I recognize her," said Skipper shortly. "She spent a lot of time with my Lifil. She will join us in Redwall tonight."

Without another word, the otter left and disappeared. Looking around at her surroundings for the first time since entering the camp, Swike found that Log-a-Log had disappeared as well. _I bet they're both very busy right now._

"I wish I could do something for your wounds," said Jennet sadly, "but I'm no good with that sort of thing. And the shrew healers have been overworked lately, with the injured piling up every day. Luckily, very few have died, but it's been impossible to avoid injuries. There are just so many vermin!"

Swike nodded slightly, still scanning the woods. I wasn't much of a camp, really. No tents were pitched and no visible barriers could be seen around the area. For all Swike could tell, the goodbeasts had simply laid out sleeping mats and packs upon the ground. Their swords and rapiers were leaned against the trunks of trees and bows and quivers of arrows hung from the branches overhead. Yet she noticed many of the goodbeasts, mostly shrews, milling around the trees and occasionally bending down to check something close to the ground.

Swike squinted to see what it was they were looking at. As one shrew reached out to the thing he was examining and picked it up, Swike understood. Trip wires. Very thin strands of rope had been lain out around the area. Swike didn't have any idea for how far. If anything outside the camp moved against one of those ropes, the vibration would come back to the goodbeasts, and somebeast could be sent to inspect the source.

A tree branch overhead shook. A streak of red-brown could be seen for a moment between the green leaves. _With trip wires below and squirrels above, and with knowledge of the land, no wonder these beasts can lie down on the ground in the middle of the woods and sleep._

"Rosethorn! Rosethorn, can you hear me?" a paw waved in front of Swike's face.

The rat blinked and looked up at Jennet. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "My mind just keeps wandering off."

Jennet frowned. "I think you've lost too much blood. But don't worry. You'll be back inside that wonderful redstone building before long. And I'll be by your side until then, I promise."


	36. Unexpected Welcome

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-six: Unexpected Welcome**

Somebeast shook Swike's footpaw gently. She roused from an uneasy sleep, blinking up at the beasts around her in the semi-darkness. Up above the trees of Mossflower, the sun must be setting.

"We need to move quickly," whispered a female voice. As it spoke again, Swike recognized it as belonging to Jennet. "Can you walk, Rosethorn?"

"Think so," Swike muttered, rolling onto her side and struggling to push herself into a standing position. A set of paws, probably Jennet's, quickly assisted her.

"Stay with me," whispered the otter, taking Swike by the paw, "and don't say anything."

Swike obeyed, but she wasn't sure how much good it would do. Her heart was beating far louder than Jennet's whispers had been. Yet nobeast showed any sign that they could hear the rhythmic pounding.

Half blind in the green-black dusk, Swike shuffled along at Jennet's side. She could hear the otter breathing softly, but nothing else could be heard from the other goodbeasts. Swike couldn't believe that so many shrews and otters and mice could walk through the woods at night without making a sound. Even if some of Koron's scouts were around, they might not notice the host of beasts drifting through the twilight.

On they walked, sometimes stopping as a group, as if in-tune to a signal which Swike could not make out, and at other times, turning as if to avoid an obstacle up ahead. Just as Swike, hopelessly lost, became certain that Redwall had been left behind a long time before, Jennet tugged on her paw to stop her colliding with a redstone wall.

In a snaking line, everybeast filed through the eastern wall gate. They had made it, without incident. Of course, Swike knew why this was, but as the gate was closed, locked, and barricaded behind them, the others breathed a sigh of relief, some of them laughing softly at the imagined skirmish they believed to have avoided.

A squirrel bounded down from the walltop, verifying with Skipper and Log-a-Log that none had been left behind.

"Oh no!" breathed Jennet. Swike turned to see what had upset the otter so. With one glance, Swike felt her own stomach plummet. The grounds were tarnished, ruined. Even with the rays of the sun gone, an unbelievable amount of damage could be seen in every direction. At least half of the abbey's windows were blackened from the fires, and the southern face of the building had collapsed into rubble. What good the rain had done for the abbey had not been so kind to the ground around it. Everything had turned to mud, churned up by frantic beasts into cracks, mounds, and ridges which had dried as such, leaving barely a few strides of level ground anywhere. Dirt, rocks, and even broken pieces of furniture were piled up against every gate leading into the abbey. And on top of it all, Swike could see a pile of dead crows up against the western wall and rows of dead abbeybeasts lain out along the eastern wall, through which Skipper's group had just entered. "I don't believe it," cried Jennet. "I just don't believe it."

Swike felt as if something were lodged in her throat which she couldn't get down. She felt as if acid were flowing in her veins, eating her alive. She couldn't look at Jennet, couldn't voice a single word of comfort. _It's all my fault, all my fault. I did this to them. I provided Lord Koron with information. I let him inside, through me. And now I'm just going to make things worse by helping out Raynat. He's just as bad as Koron. A horde of rats is just as bad as the army of vermin outside right now. I did this. It's all my fault._

"Rosethorn? Is that really you?" Swike looked in the direction of the voice. She would have continued to wallow in her misery, yet before her stood Spyn, and she was snapped back into reality. _And it's over, even before it began._ The squirrel smiled warmly. There was nothing sinister or cruel upon his face. Instead, he looked relieved, and Swike realized that he had sounded relieved as well. "What a wonderful surprise!" he said, coming forward to embrace her. "We thought you were dead! Maren was – oh no," he broke off his hug immediately, "you're hurt! Have I hurt you more?"

Swike grimaced up at him but said nothing. He had, indeed, put her in more pain when he wrapped him arms around her, but she didn't think it was the right time or place to say so. She was so shocked by his warm welcome that she couldn't help but think that it _must_ be false! Hadn't Spyn been suspicious of her from the beginning? What could possibly possess him to welcome her back after she had disappeared during the middle of battle? Of course they had all thought she was dead! Only a vermin could have fallen off the wall and remained alive in the very midst of the army. Shouldn't his worst fears now be verified?

And yet, here he was, joyfully leading her and Jennet into the Great Hall, as if he truly thought of Swike as an old friend, miraculously brought back to life.

And they were all there. Except for those currently stationed on the walls, everybeast had been arranged in the Great Hall to welcome Skipper back into Redwall. Old friends and family members surged forward from both sides to embrace, happily, in the middle of the room. For a moment, the war was forgotten as the goodbeasts shed tears of joy at being reunited inside these walls.

Swike soon found a group around herself. Maren and Gyis had run over, at first, to greet Jennet, but soon turned their attention onto Swike, whom they had not been expecting at all. Maren fell to the ground, sobbing like a dibbun. Gyis simply stared with her mouth wide open in disbelief. Then both Jennet and Gyis knelt down to comfort the mousemaid.

"She's alive!" Maren was sobbing. "Alive! And I've been blaming myself, blaming myself for not getting to her fast enough, for not pulling her back when she fell! Rosethorn, my best friend in the whole world, is back!"

"It's ok, Maren," said Jennet sweetly. "I found her in Mossflower. Somehow, she got away. I found her and now I've brought her back to you."

Gyis held a kerchief up to the mouse's snout. "Blow on this Maren. You don't need to cry. Rosethorn is back now, see. And I've been telling you this whole time that it wasn't your fault, not your fault at all."

As Maren blew her nose, the feeling in the room changed; there was a ripple effect, moving from one end of the room to the other. Swike looked up and around to see what was going on. Nearly all eyes were upon two otters. Skipper was framed in the doorway. Lifil stood near the kitchens.

It was a horrible battle of wills, father against daughter. Lifil began to stride forward, her left paw placed lightly on the pommel of Martin's sword, the picture of a young, yet capable, Abbey Champion. Skipper did not move, yet retained the stance of a disapproving father. It was like he could not accept that his daughter might no longer be a child. Lifil stuck out her chin stubbornly, still walking with a steady step, but Swike was certain she could detect tears forming in the corners of the otter's eyes. And Skipper softened; he nodded. Acceptance. A moment later, Lifil was sprinting, limbs flying in every direction. She laughed and sprang into her father's open arms. The room echoed with a cheer. Maren began to cry once more.

* * *

The next morning, Swike awoke on the floor of Cavern Hole, padded in blankets. With most of the abbey on ground level and above damaged and dangerous, nearly everybeast slept either in Cavern Hole or one of the storage rooms below ground. Swike heard that the shrews had taken over the cellars. 

The excitement which greeted Swike's return followed her everywhere she went. Before she could even make it to the kitchens for some breakfast, Ronn and Char found her.

"See," said Char. "I told you we found her in Mossflower. You helped look after her when we first carried her into Redwall, right? Her back's in a horrible state."

"Rosethorn, can I take a look?" asked Ronn kindly. "I'm so glad to see you back," he said as she turned around. "Oh my! Why didn't you come see somebeast about this last night, Rosethorn?"

"I guess I just wanted to get some sleep. And in all the merriment, I forgot I was injured."

"I don't know how you could forget something like this. I'm surprised you can even walk around."

A head peeped out of the doorway into the kitchen. "Rosethorn!" yelled Bryce, charging out into the hall. "I heard you were back! Cata made a grand breakfast this morning, since Skipper and everybeast is here. They're already serving it, and in the Great Hall too! We don't generally eat in there any more, but it's really the only place where there's room for everybeast."

"Sorry Bryce, but this maid will be eating breakfast in the Infirmary."

"No Ronn," pleaded Swike. "Is it really necessary? I'm sure that I'll be fine, now I'm back in Redwall."

"Yes, it's necessary. And you can count on being in there for at least the rest of the day."

Swike frowned deeply; she didn't know how she was going to get out of this one.

"In Rosethorn's defense," said Char, "when we found her, she was in a pretty bad state, but Jennet tells me she was able to walk, unassisted, all the way to Redwall. Maybe she doesn't need to stay the _whole_ day, mate."

Ronn looked unconvinced, but he must have trusted Char's opinion more than Swike's for he consented. "Alright, but I need to at least dress her wounds properly. And I'd like to take a look at her ear too." He shot a nervous glance to the left of Swike's head. She knew it looked uncomely and had caught a few goodbeasts with their eyes darting to her absence of an ear, and then away again. Ronn had been the first to mention it though.

"I'll bring up some breakfast for you then," said Bryce, zipping back into the kitchens with a spring in his step.

With a smile, Char left them too and Swike found herself in Ronn's care. The otter winked at her before turning to lead the way up to the Infirmary. "It won't be that bad," he said. "and you'll feel much better once the bandages are set."

In truth, Swike was looking forward to new bandages. The job she had done on herself was uncomfortable and caused her undue pain. What worried her was Ronn getting too close a look at her face. She was certain her ear didn't need any more care than she had already received on it, but she wasn't sure that Ronn would agree.

The two of them came to the Infirmary door and Ronn turned toward her, placing a paw up to his snout to signal her into silence. He opened the door quietly and they slipped inside. All except two beds held patients with various injuries. Swike chose not to look closely at any of them, fearing to find somebeast she knew. As they walked along to a bed on the far side of the room though, she couldn't help but stare at a pile of rags in the corner. Despite the current war status, the room had been kept fairly clean, and luckily, it was located on the north side of the abbey, farthest from the worst fires. The rags were horribly out of place.

As she stared at the rags, Swike saw them shift. She gasped sharply and Ronn turned to make sure she was alright. She still stared intently at the rags, which she now realized were Haley, the Infirmary Keeper. The squirrel was fast asleep, probably getting one of the few naps she could manage when she had so many patients. Ronn saw where Swike was looking, and he crept forward to pull the patched blanket closer around the squirrel. Swike realized, with a smile, that Ronn had signaled for silence for Haley's benefit, more than for the other patients. He turned back toward her and motioned to the nearest bed. Feeling friendly to the young otter at the moment, Swike lay down on her stomach on the bed without further urging.

Ronn made a quick, clean job of the dressing on Swike's back. Swike knew she should be thinking up a plan to distract Ronn away from her ear, but the cool feeling seeping into the wound on her back from whatever the squirrel had spread overtop it was so soothing that she couldn't think of anything else. She was quickly taking a liking to the otter.

"Can you sit up for me?" Ronn whispered.

Swike consented. Just then, something heavy crashed against the outside of the door. A couple of the other patients stirred. Next, the door banged open and Bryce came stumbling into the room, laden down with a hearty breakfast atop a tray. He skipped a few steps across the room, trying very hard to regain his balance and keep from dropping the tray. Even so, some juice sloshed out and onto the floor. Swike laughed in spite of herself, and Bryce blushed a violent red. Almost sheepishly, he shuffled over to her bed and set the tray down.

"Bryce!" breathed Ronn, exasperated. Haley was sitting bolt upright, and a moment later, she was on her paws and rushing around to check on the patients and calm them back down. Ronn followed on the squirrel's tail, begging her to sit back down and rest.

"I'll just … go then," said Bryce nervously, exiting backward.

The aroma wafting up from the tray was intoxicating, but Swike finally had a plan. Without taking a single bite of her breakfast, she slid off her bed and tip-pawed to the door. Ronn was still very much engaged in trying to tend the patients before Haley could reach them, and neither of them paid any attention to the rat. Holding her breath, she inched the door open and slipped out.

She could barely believe her narrow escape. She felt that she might even thank Bryce for the part he had played, but looking around she couldn't see a hair of the mouse, almost as if he had long sprinted away.

_That wouldn't be a bad idea_, she thought, beginning to rush down the hallway.

She was going so fast that, as she began to bound down the stairs, she nearly ran straight into Spyn.

"Hello! There you are Rosethorn," said the squirrel joyously. Swike's heart became caught in her throat. She turned around, intent on running back up the stairs, but on the top step, Gyis stood looking down on her. "We wanted to talk with you," said Spyn.

_I'm dead!_


	37. Rat Inside Redwall

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-seven: Rat Inside Redwall**

The two squirrels shepherded Swike back up the few stairs she had run down and into the nearest empty room. Swike began to sweat, and thus, to panic over whether she should wipe the moisture away or leave the salty drops alone and risk revealing her rat features.

_They've got me cornered. They already know. It won't do any good to save the disguise any longer. Better to look brave._

She left the sweat to run down the side of her face, opting instead to reach for a knife hidden up her sleeve. It was the only knife she had on herself at the moment. Two spares were in her satchel, which she hoped was still safe in the gatehouse.

"The first thing we wanted to say," began Spyn, looking nervous, "is that we're sorry."

Swike's paw held the end of her knife, but she didn't draw it out. She was as still as stone, eyes locked on the squirrels before her.

"_Really_ sorry," stressed Gyis.

"I don't know if you're aware," said Spyn, "but we haven't always trusted you." Gyis hung her head, ashamed. "You've probably forgotten by now, but when Martin visited Lifil in her dream, he left us a riddled message. Do you remember what it was?"

Swike lightly dabbed the sweat away. "No," she lied, "I don't remember."

Gyis lifted her head. "The first line said '_There is one among you who is not your friend,_'"

"'_Who would bring you to a bloody end,_'" continued Spyn, shaking his head. "Nobeast was able to figure out what Martin meant by those lines, and the war was upon us so quickly that most pushed it from their minds. But Martin seemed to be warning us that there was somebeast in Redwall who we couldn't trust. And we," Spyn shot a guilty look at his sister, "thought it might be you."

He became silent. Swike spoke. "Why?"

"Stupid reasons," muttered Gyis.

"You're new to Redwall," said Spyn, "and we know so little about you. But there's at least one thing we do know. You've become really close friends with Maren. There aren't many mice in Redwall around her age. And that's really it: you're a mouse! What other proof we ever needed," his voice began to waver, "I don't know…"

It didn't seem as if the squirrels had any more to say, but Swike didn't want them to stop there. She was still confused and had questions she wished to ask, but wouldn't dare, for the risk of sounding suspicious. Yes, they had suspected her, and with good reason, but why had they changed their minds? Why were they telling her all of this now? Why was she now a trusted mouse? Why even mention her species at all?

To Swike's relief, Gyis began to talk again.

"Rosethorn, after you fell off the wall, many things happened. The rain, it gave us time to rethink and regroup, to plan. Chinley came down from the attic, carrying as much of his things as he could save from the fires. And he brought us new knowledge and a fighting chance in this war."

The name of Chinley sparked long buried memories from Swike's first days inside Redwall. She remembered an old squirrel, asleep on his bed and surrounded by parchments. She remembered that same squirrel leaning over a table up in the attic, surrounded by things she had never had the pleasure to look through and report on.

"He told us there was a rat inside Redwall."

Swike flinched involuntarily. Her paw was itching to reach for her knife once more.

"I know," said Gyis, misinterpreting her flinch as astonishment. "We were shocked. At first, nobeast believed him, but then he explained how somebeast had tried to get into his room, dropping a bucket of water on the floor in the process, and the pawprints that dried in the wet dust were still discernable when he saw them later. The pawprints of a rat."

"Soooo," breathed Spyn, "we knew we had misjudged you. You're a mouse. It seems Martin was warning us about a rat. Only, you had already fallen off the wall. We couldn't apologize. In fact, we thought we'd never get the chance to do so."

The guilt on Spyn's face was giving Swike a stomach ache. Trying to ignore the feeling, she asked the logical question. "Did you catch the rat?"

"Unfortunately, no," said Gyis. "We searched Redwall from top to bottom. The rat must have escaped after the war began."

Spyn made fists. "But if I ever got a hold of that rat," he made a motion as if ringing the neck of an invisible foe standing before him and left off whatever else he meant to say.

"But I doubt that will happen," said Gyis, "and anyway, our efforts are better spent on the war. The reinforcements we've received have done so much good for our morale, but the numbers are still so horribly against us that defeat is almost inevitable."

"Gyis, don't talk that way. You spent too much time up in that bell tower, looking out at that vile vermin camp. Don't let the numbers get you down. Isn't that what Brandy is always saying? Redwall has never fallen in any siege. We'll outlast them!"

"But surely we've never faced a foe such as this?"

"I don't care what lies outside those walls," said Spyn, "because we're better prepared within. We have Skipper and Brandy _and_ an Abbey Champion. We have Chinley. We'll outlast them."

Gyis began to smile, buoyed up by her brother's words.

"Chinley?" asked Swike. Both squirrels looked at her. "Excuse me for asking, but what does he really have to do with this? He alerted you to a rat inside Redwall, but how is that going to help you win the war?"

"But didn't you know?" asked Spyn. "He's an inventor. That's about all he ever does. Brandy and Lifil even appointed him as head of the war council when they saw some of the ideas he had. Foremole got to work on those plans right away too, even as the rain poured down. They constructed a huge catapult device. Didn't you see it?"

"Not a catapult," Gyis corrected. "Chinley called it a trebuchet."

"What it's called doesn't matter," said Spyn, taking hold of Swike's paws and steering her to the only window in the room, "all that matters is that it can throw heavy objects out onto the vermin. It's the main reason that the walls haven't been taken in the past few days."

Swike stared out at the abbey grounds. The abbey building itself had blocked her view of the trebuchet the night before, but she was ashamed of herself for not looking for it earlier. She had already known that the Redwallers had built something. Still, she hadn't been expecting this. Swike could see why Spyn had called it a catapult, though it didn't look quite like any catapult Swike had ever seen. It was much taller and lighter. Even as she watched, a mole threw a few last grappling hooks into a large sling attached to a long wooden rod and motioned a mouse to set it flying. The mouse released a wedge which allowed a bulky wooden counterweight to fall, thus propelling the wooden rod attached to the sling forward. A dozen or more grappling hooks went soaring over the wall. Swike flinched at the thought of the unlucky beasts soon to be torn to shreds by the many hooks.

Wholly unconcerned by the fate of vermin, Spyn regained her attention. "Of course, that's not all old Chinley's done. He also gave Enzo a design for a long cutting instrument to use on the ropes of grappling hooks. It's like two long rods that are attached with blades at the end, and they snap together on the rope, severing it."

"Chinley calls them shears," said Gyis.

"Whatever he calls them, we've got a few up on the battlements already. Now there's no need to lean out over the wall and hack at the ropes with knives. Much safer. I wish he'd told us sooner. You might have never fallen off the wall in the first place Rosethorn."

"That can't be helped now," said Swike, matter-of-factly. She began to move toward the door and the two squirrels followed her without protest. "But who's Enzo?" She had been turning the name over in her head, but it didn't ring a bell.

"Oh," said Gyis, "You probably never met him. But you'll know his wife. He's married to Catalina. He's a blacksmith, but he's almost always in his forge. It was made special for him in a room off the kitchen, so that he could have access to one of the ovens through the wall. Catalina knows never to use that oven for cooking."

"Catalina?" asked Swike, "The hedgehog who runs the kitchens? Don't some call her Cata? I like her, and her cooking too."

"Don't we all," said Spyn. The three of them entered Great Hall. Swike saw Bryce amid the beasts cleaning up from breakfast. Her stomach growled and she remembered, with regret, the breakfast which she had abandoned up in the infirmary.

"It's about time for my shift," said Spyn suddenly. With a hasty farewell, he made for the outdoors.

"I should probably go too," said Gyis. "I've actually been helping Enzo some. He's good with wood and metal, but I'm better at fletching, and our need for arrows appears to be never-ending. Will you be alright Rosethorn?"

Swike had found her eyes on Martin's tapestry, but she pulled them away now. "Sure," she replied. "Maybe I'll find Brandy or Chinley. Figure out when my shifts are."

Gyis looked worried. "Don't be too eager to get back on the wall. You're injured. You would do well to remember it." The squirrel stared down at her footpaws. "And I'd hate to see Maren grieve your death all over again." Before Swike could say a word to this, Gyis was running off toward the kitchens.

"Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

Swike jumped, turning toward the speaker. "Oh, Bryce," she breathed. "I didn't notice you coming up beside me."

If Swike didn't know better, she'd have said Bryce looked hurt. But whatever emotion lay behind his eyes soon passed. "Sorry. I guess you were engaged in a conversation with Gyis. I should have announced my presence first." He continued to stare at Swike eagerly.

_What is he waiting for?_

"So? Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

_Oh yeah! I forget he'd asked me a question._

Swike opened her mouth, then clamped it shut again. _But I didn't eat my breakfast._ As if registering her need to feign fullness, Swike's stomach took the opportunity to growl.

"Was it not enough?" asked Bryce quickly. "Because there's more in the kitchen."

Swike nodded and allowed the mouse to lead her to her breakfast. She decided not to tell him that she hadn't had a bite to eat yet, but she knew he'd find out eventually. Somebeast would have to retrieve the tray from the infirmary.

As she entered the kitchen, she found the place a bustle of activity. Catalina pulled a batch of scones out of an oven while some of her helpers tended a soup (_I wonder if it's still the same soup they started when the war began_). A few beasts ran in and out of the kitchen with food and drink for the fighters. Two sentries, looking as if they had just retired from the wall, were sitting down to their own late breakfast.

_I'm back in Redwall. I'm really back._ It was an odd thought, yet fitting. So much had changed during her absence, but the kitchens still felt the same. She felt as if she were back at the beginning of the war when her life made more sense. She felt like Rosethorn again, and it was a good feeling.


	38. The Battle Within

A/N: Hey guys! I'm still here and still writing, though I apologize for the long absence. I'll try to never make you wait so long again. This is the last chapter of part three. There are only four parts to this story, so take courage in that! Without further ado, please enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**Part Three: The War**

**Chapter Thirty-eight: The Battle Within**

Swike fell into the routine of Redwall, even Redwall at war, as if it were second nature. While she thought often of the vermin outside the walls, especially those whom she knew well, she also felt as if the war no longer concerned her. Every attempt on her part to get back into the fighting had been thwarted. She hadn't been given the privilege to speak with Skipper, Log-a-Log, Brandy, Chinley, or even Lifil since her arrival.

Though not for lack of trying. Every morning after breakfast, and often at random points throughout the day, Swike would attempt to approach one of the leaders within the abbey. Every time, somebeast would get in her way. Maren, Bryce, Gyis, Spyn, Char, Jennet, Ronn. One of them always seemed to be near her, ready to bump into her side, to knock over a chair, or to engage her in sporadic conversation.

It was so obviously a plot to keep her off the walls that she couldn't help but feel touched. Still, she had fought them at first. Their talents at keeping her in one spot for just long enough were frustrating beyond belief, and she felt a temper welling up in her chest which she had never known before. It was that temper which checked her efforts in the end. With no desire to become angry at these young Redwallers, she relented.

And so she learned the part of an injured Redwaller and played it well. As long as she ate well, got a little, light exercise, and kept away from the battle, Ronn left her alone with no more threats of an Infirmary stay. Every morning, she joined him and Maren to help them to sort out any herbs which had been collected by squirrels in the dark; every afternoon, she joined Gyis to help sort arrows into piles marked: good for use, reusable parts, or trash.

And to Swike's surprise and delight, she found that her body welcomed the change of pace. Her wounds were healing and she grew stronger every day. No longer was she hungry for war. Even with the sounds of yells, bangs, and crashes all around, she felt far from the energy, adrenalin, and fear upon the wall top. Without her bow by her side, she was content to wait inside, below ground, and out of the way. She even lost track of how long she had been Rosethorn. It became her unchanging reality, and she would have gladly had it remain so.

But that could not be.

* * *

One morning, the stillness woke her. She lay awake, breathing quickly, frightened of something which she couldn't name, couldn't identify. She had forgotten what silence was.

But why was it silent? She sat up on her mat in Cavern Hole. Many around her were also stirring. A mole in the corner lit a candle and began to help those around to do the same. The flickering lights sprang up all around the room, like tiny stars in a wide, black night. But no eyes dwelt on the candlelight; all were gazing upward, straining their ears for the sound of warfare which was strangely absent.

A chill passed down Swike's spine. She shook her shoulders to make it pass and stretched out her back to get the blood flowing. It was completely healed now.

A low buzzing filled the room. It became quickly apparent that Skipper and Lifil had entered and were picking out some beasts to follow them. As the young Abbey Champion brushed quickly past her mat, Swike felt the otter's paw press lightly on her shoulder. Almost as if she had been expecting it, Swike arose instantly and made for the door. Brandy nodded each individual through the doorway; Swike was allowed through.

They filed out into the chill grey which precedes the dawn. As a morning breeze touched her face, Swike became aware of a rumbling sound in the distance. She couldn't tell if it had just begun or if the sound had simply been inaudible under ground.

The goodbeasts were parting into two groups. In a moment, Swike knew where she belonged, and she followed the smaller group of unarmed beasts toward the armory. There, she scanned a row of bows, unconsciously looking for her own, which she had lost in her fall, an age ago. She felt the pull of four bows before she was satisfied, and with this new, unfamiliar companion, she turned to leave. Next to the door, she picked up a battered quiver full of arrows. No two arrows were of the same make, evidence of the mass recycling of weapons within the abbey. Swike made a mental note to adjust each shot to the length and weight of whichever arrow she was currently using.

As she made her way toward the nearest stairway onto the battlements, she met Skipper. He sized her up, looking dubiously at the bow which was nearly as tall as she was, before motioning toward the much further southern wall. After a curt nod, Swike began to jog to her station. Almost before she knew it, she was looking out at the far vermin camp. For longer than the reach of the trebuchet, all was deserted around the abbey. But to say that the view seen from the wall top was peaceful would have been far from the truth.

Before her eyes lay chaos. Mayhem. Her jaw dropped and she clutched the wall before her. Her world was careening, spinning out of control. She wanted more than anything else to cry aloud.

Swifuct!!

Riss!!

But to do so would mean death. So she hung there, on the edge of this nightmare. The vermin could be seen battling within their own ranks and running in all directions. She could see that few went far in the direction of Redwall. As if those red walls were more frightening that death itself, they would all turn back into the fray, back into their graves. But on the horizon, she could see many who ran from it all, and they looked as if they had no intention of returning.

Swike now knew what the rumbling sound had been, for the running paws were far louder than the distant yells and clangs of battle. But soon, that rumbling was drowned out by the cheers around her. The Redwallers could see what was happening and a yell of triumph and relief soon filled all their throats.

Swike could hold it in no longer. Her eyes blurred; a sob escaped her lips.

"Swifcut! My Swifcut! What h-have you done? D-da-darling Riss."

Even from this distance, it was so easy to see that rats were in the thick of everything. The fleeing vermin were weasels, ferrets, stoats, but few if any rats. The uprising was happening, and not until now had Swike known what that would mean. She was a vermin, a rat, and nothing, no amount of plant dies, fake hairs, or name changes could ever change that.

So much that had once been a fog was now clear. _I don't want it to end this way. I never wanted this. It's not fair. I don't want Lord Koron's army to lose. But … I don't want the Redwallers to lose either. I just want this war to be over. Are we really so different, so different that we can't coexist? I have friends on both sides, and family on one –_ Maren's face came to mind _– no! I have family on both sides too!_

The trebuchet rocketed debris straight over Swike's head. Some of the vermin had come within range as they fought, without realizing it. Swike felt herself scream. It was agony to watch. And still, a resounding cheer echoed all around her. Did nobeast understand? Was she invisible in her pain?

A hard paw came down on her shoulder. Her longbow slipped from her own paw to rattle next to her footpaws, mute compared to the roars all around. Swike turned a tear-streaked face toward the beast next to her. It was Brandy. The hedgehog motioned down toward the grounds. Swike obliged, only too eager to leave the wall top behind. She could feel Brandy's paw on her shoulder the whole way down the stairs.

But if Swike thought she had finally been found out, she was mistaken. Brandy simply made her sit down on the ground, her back against the wall, and then retreated back up the stairs.

So Swike sat there, in the dirt, and listened. One didn't need eyes to see what was happening. More and more vermin were deserting as one side gained the upper paw. The squirrels were driving all of the vermin out of Mossflower, but they weren't killing the deserters. The vermin came close to Redwall once on the west and twice from the north, but the trebuchet kept them at bay.

Finally, Swike heard the unmistakable jubilation which meant that Lord Koron, who had been spied sometime after Swike left, had fallen. She was numb.

_I'm … free._ After a minute, Swike stood up, looking around with wide eyes. _I can go where I want. Do what I want._ Swike stood a moment longer and then sat back down. _I don't know what I want._ Her tears which had stood, unnoticed on her face, were flowing once more. _I just want Swifcut and Riss to be alive. And Naysta and Raynat. They don't deserve death either._

She wanted to run out the nearest gate; she wanted to find her brother and others whom she cared for. But she already knew that all of the gates were too well barricaded for her to escape quickly and unnoticed.

_Free? I'm not free. This is just another kind of prison and Koron knew it would be. But Swifcut … he didn't want me to be here. He probably knew that once I entered this place for the second time, there'd be no coming out._ Swike gripped her quiver tightly, anxiously. _If only I were an arrow. Then I could fly over the wall and get lost in the forest where nobeast could find me again. Except … maybe … Riss. I bet he's had to search for lost arrows plenty of times. Would he look for me, if I went missing?_ She felt something squirming in her stomach. _What am I thinking?! I need to find him first. He could be lying out there somewhere, bleeding to death. Who will try to save him, if not me?_

Her thoughts were finally interrupted. A mouse was kneeling in front of her, reaching up with a thin towel to wipe the tears from her face. Some of Swifcut's last words came to mind. _Vonise ne zat ya vill de carehul._ Swike gasped and reached up to shield her face, her wet face. _Be careful! Have I lost my mind? What about this is careful at all?_

"It's ok, Rosethorn," said Maren, "it's just me. Please let me wipe your face clean. You've been crying."

_Maren, Swifcut, but Maren, but Swifcut, but… _Swike didn't know what to do anymore. She didn't know what was right. She didn't know what the point of any of her actions had been. But she did know that there were at least two beasts that she truly loved and trusted, and one of them was kneeling in front of her right now.

Fully aware of what the consequences might be, she lowered her paws.


	39. Interrogation

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Thirty-nine: Interrogation**

Swike felt her heart pounding against her chest as Maren leaned in close to her with the towel. The mousemaid seemed to notice nothing at first. She dried the tears and then bent over to wet the towel in a small bucket of water.

Swike saw the change come over her gradually as plant dies began to muddy the water. Maren lifted her head, her eyes growing wide. The two creatures stared at each other, rat and mouse. It felt like time had stopped and all sound had halted.

Then everything started again with a vengeance. Maren squealed, falling over backward. Swike leapt on top of her, quickly covering her mouth. She was reminded instantly of jumping over a fire to smother Blackgut's cries so very long ago, but she pushed the thought from her mind, feeling ill.

"Maren, no," she whispered, still using Rosethorn's voice. "Please don't do this. Please calm down!"

But Maren showed no signs of calming down. Eyes wide with fright, she began flailing around all of her limbs in an effort to push the rat off of her.

"Maren!" Swike was crying again. She felt as if her heart were being squeezed in a vice; she felt as if she were dying inside. She went weak with the sobs that wracked her body and the next heave from Maren caused the rat to fall off and onto her side. _Why? Why is this happening?_ Swike pressed her eyes shut and her single ear into the dirt, trying to block everything out. She could feel the vibration of paws running away. She curled into a ball and let herself cry. _I don't want to be here anymore! Swifcut may be dead, and now Maren hates me. Can I have nothing that I want?_

She felt somebeast touch her shoulder. Swike started, putting up her arm instantly, to protect her head. But she was not being attacked. It was Maren.

"I-I thought you were gone," said Swike.

Maren crouched at a distance, looking very uncertain of herself. "Well … I started to leave … but then I looked back." Tears were coming into her eyes as well, "And all I could see was Rosethorn lying on the ground and crying."

Swike sat up and took a deep breath. "I'm not Rosethorn," she said.

"I know," replied Maren quickly. "But … isn't Rosethorn a part of you? She must be."

Swike didn't say anything.

"You're the one, aren't you?" said Maren. "The one Martin spoke of."

Swike didn't want to admit to this, but she had already nodded.

Maren stood up. "Roseth- wait, what should I call you?"

"Swike."

"Swike … Swike. Can I trust you to stay here?"

Maren stood there, agitatedly moving from one paw to the other and back again. But in her eyes, there was the same trust and love that had always been there. Swike knew that if she were left alone, she would have one last chance of escaping. It might not be easy, but it would still be possible. Yet one more look at that concerned face took the possibility away. "Yes."

As Maren ran up the stairs, to alert somebeast to the identity of the spy within their midst, Swike tried to compose herself. She pulled the water and towel toward her and cleaned off the rest of her face. The charade was done.

Clearing her throat, she practiced using her own voice again. "I am Swike," she said. The next thing she knew, stars were exploding behind her eyes and she fell forward into darkness.

* * *

Regaining consciousness was painful. Her whole head was throbbing, her shoulders were sore, and her paws were numb. When Swike tried to push herself up into a sitting position, her arms wouldn't do as she commanded them. Confused and disoriented, she rolled around and kicked out at the floor and wall until she grew too tired to do anything but lie on her side.

Breathing in short gasps, she gazed intently into her surroundings. It wasn't pitch black, as she had first thought. She found that she was in a tiny room without decoration. A sparse amount of light could be seen coming under the single door. It was orange-yellow in color, suggesting the presence of candles or a torch.

The reason for her struggles and soreness also became apparent. Her paws had been tightly bound behind her back, through her footpaws remained free. She had to attribute the ache in her head to the reason for her unconsciousness. Somebeast must have come up behind her and struck her. Oddly, she couldn't remember this happening. The last thing she could remember was washing her face after Maren left.

With renewed determination, Swike pushed herself up with one shoulder. A little bit of effort later, and she was able to lean against the wall opposite the door, bracing her footpaws before her to keep herself from falling to either side.

It was after sitting still for a while that she remembered her knives. She should have one or two hidden on her, either up her sleeve or at her waist. Fidgeting with this new purpose, she pressed her arms together. Nothing but cloth and fur. She leaned to her right side, lying her hip on the ground. Between the hard ground and her skin, she felt the bulk of no knife. She was disarmed.

Disheartened, Swike let her head lull forward onto her chest. There was nothing left for her but to wait.

* * *

The door made a loud squeaking sound as it opened, as if the hinges hadn't been oiled in years. Swike started awake. She had slid along the wall until she was nearly lying down again, so she quickly attempted to right herself.

"Don't move, rat!" barked Brandy.

Startled, Swike ceased all efforts to sit up and fell over onto her side instantly. A lamp was set down near her face, forcing her to squint against the sudden, bright light. Somebeast rolled Swike onto her stomach to check her bonds before pushing her back onto her side.

"Explain yourself. What are you doing in Redwall?"

"I-I-" Swike tried to wet her lips.

"Maybe we should give her some water first." This new voice was familiar, but not instantly recognizable, as Brandy's had been.

"Fine, but not too much."

An otter knelt down by Swike's head and helped her to drink, though most of the water spilled out onto the ground. As he got back up, Swike got a look at his face. It was Char.

There were others in the room as well. Beside Brandy stood Skipper and Lifil. Next to Char, Swike could barely see Spyn. None of the faces looked too kindly on their captive. Fear crept into Swike's heart.

Skipper came forward; he loomed over her, his features looking as if they were etched in stone. "Who are you?"

_Should I use my voice, or Rosethorn's?_ Swike felt as if she were being examined by Lord Koron again, for the first time. She had spoken in an odd voice without giving him fair warning at the time. That decision had nearly proved fatal. _Rosethorn's voice!_ "I'm a rat from Lord Koron's army."

Spyn made an angry sound reminiscent of a growl.

"Koron's army has defeated itself," stated Brandy, as if daring Swike to disagree.

"And what is your mission inside Redwall?" asked Skipper, as if nobeast else had spoken to Swike.

"To sp-spy for Lord Koron."

"Did you do that? Did you spy for him?"

Swike tried to continue looking up into Skipper's face, but it was nearly impossible. As if ashamed, she found herself staring at the floor instead. "Yes," she whispered.

With a roar, Spyn launched himself at Swike. But Skipper was quicker and he held the squirrel at bay. Char and Lifil joined in to help and finally pulled Spyn off into a corner.

"What would that accomplish?" demanded Skipper. "What honor could you gain in attacking a bound creature, Spyn?"

The squirrel had been wild-eyed, but the reprimand put him back in his place. "None, sir," he answered, slumping against the wall.

"Now rat," Skipper spun back around. Swike flinched at the name of _rat_. "What did you tell Lord Koron?"

Swike's mind was racing. "Maps," she began, "of the grounds and the abbey. Identities of important beasts. The meanings of different bell rings. The number of beasts and state of weapons." The words flew from her mouth as if she had always wished to say them, yet held back until now.

"That makes sense," said Brandy. "He knew Abbess Pojam's name from the beginning."

"Did he?" asked Skipper.

"Yes," said Lifil. "And he knew about you as well. He knew you were in Mossflower."

"I see." Skipper examined Swike as if she were a very interesting looking plant, the like of which he had never seen. "And after the war began, did you fight for Redwall?"

The other goodbeasts appeared unsettled by this question, but Swike felt hope for the first time. "Yes!" she said, maybe a little more forcefully than necessary.

"What is your name, rat?"

"My name is Swike," Swike made a decision, "And _this_ is my true voice."

Nobeast said anything at first. Skipper turned toward the others. "We'll be back to talk more later, Swike. Char, please leave the water."

Char came forward and poured out the jug of water into a bowl. Swike could see that this would enable her to drink from in without the use of her paws, by sticking her head in. Lifil was the last beast to leave. She knelt down to pick up the lamp and gazed upon Swike with such a glum expression that it hurt to look at her.

"I'm sorry if I hit you too hard," she whispered, motioning toward the hilt of Martin's sword at her side.

Then they were gone and Swike was thrown back into darkness. _It was Lifil_, she thought. _Lifil knocked me out. I just hope … I hope that Maren is alright._


	40. Flower Petals

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty: Flower Petals**

Captivity was not what Swike would have ever imagined it to be. She had so much _time!_ More than anybeast would ever want or need. After a little practice, she was able to stand up and walk around, though she found herself stumbling in the dark. She took to walking the exterior of the room, always pausing at the door to listen. A few times, she thought she heard somebeast walking by, but she could never be sure.

The eternal dark was horrible. She had lived under ground for a while, due to the war, but that had been different. There had been light and sound and, occasionally, the sight of the outdoors. Here, there was no way to tell what time it was. She didn't even know where _here_ was. Most of the rooms she had ever seen below Redwall had been huge, their purpose the storing of food, drink, or other materials. She also hadn't seen many doors, in all of Redwall, with locks, yet her door was obviously locked.

"Who knew Redwall had dungeons?" Swike gulped. It sounded weird, talking into the darkness, and she decided to not do so again.

Her water was long gone by the time somebeast came to check on her. She backed away from the door when she heard a key turning in the lock. The light which poured into her small cell was blinding. She had to turn her face away and close her eyes to stand it.

"Rosethorn?"

"That's not her name, Bryce."

"That's right," said the mouse, sounding sad.

"Swike, turn around." Recognizing Char's voice this time, Swike did as she was told. She felt the otter cutting her bonds. Relief filled her, and she remained still and silent, fearful that somebeast might command Char to bind her again if she proved to be unruly. As the last cord was cut, Swike's arms each fell slowly to her sides, limp and useless.

"Has she been tied up this whole time?" asked Bryce in a shocked tone. Swike heard something heavy hit the floor and then the mouse was at her side, trying to massage life back into her right arm. The pain was worse than it had been when she first awoke to find herself bound. Swike yelped and pulled away, nearly falling over. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you Rosethorn?"

Char grabbed a hold of the mouse. "We told you not to get near her Bryce. And her name is Swike now."

Tears were glistening in the corners of his eyes, but Bryce nodded and sat down on the floor to empty the basket he had been carrying. Inside were bread, cheese, nuts, and more water. As he busied himself, Swike looked at who else had come. Lifil had brought a pot which she set down in the corner. Swike had an idea what that pot was for. Besides those three, Swike could only see two shrews standing in the doorway. They each held drawn short swords and watched Swike mercilessly.

Though Bryce took his time setting out the food, his task was quickly finished. Char helped him to his feet and the three young beasts left. One of the shrews shook his sword menacingly at Swike before the door closed.

Swike tippawed to the door and pressed her good ear to it. She wasn't positive, but she thought only three pairs of paw retreated up the hallway. It appeared that her shrew guards had remained.

Sighing, Swike began to slowly flex her arms. She grimaced from the pain, but she knew she needed to regain control of these limbs before she would be able to eat, and she was starving.

* * *

As time ticked slowly away, Swike learned the inside of her cell. She could walk five paces from the door to the far wall and six paces between the other two walls. Both walls and floor were hard-packed dirt. There were no stones to pry away, and when Swike experimented scratching to dig away at one corner, all she ended up with were sore paws, seemingly, without making a dent. _I imagine a mole could escape. This room might have even been carved out by moles._ She was too short to feel the ceiling, even if she jumped, but she imagined it was probably similar to everything else. The door itself was heavy and wooden with no handle on her side. It was closefitting to the wall around with just a tiny gap along the floor, enough to let in a sliver of light. There was no mat for Swike to sleep on, but a layer of softer dirt covered the hard-packed floor. Swike realized that she probably wore a light coat of the dust herself.

All in all, Swike figured she could have been much worse off. In any case, she knew herself well enough to know that escape was but a dream. Perhaps Raynat could have thought of something, but Swike was stuck. Her only hope lay in the generosity of the Redwallers.

But she found their generosity forthcoming. While she grew hungry before her next meal was brought, the food was still wholesome and fresh. And Bryce was the one to deliver it, though his escorts were not the same. His presence became an instant comfort to Swike. He, at least, still saw her as the gentle mousemaid Rosethorn. In fact, not once had he called her Swike. Swike could tell than some of the other goodbeasts found Bryce's insistence in calling Swike Rosethorn disturbing. Swike herself couldn't help but be a bit worried about the mouse, though he flattered her all the same.

As she ate, Swike found dried flower petals under her scones. She nearly ate a few before she realized what they were. Curious, she crumbled a single petal in her paw. The aroma which wafted up to her nose was wonderfully pleasant, a sharp contrast to the stink which was slowly filling the cell. Of course, she had become accustomed to the smell, but from the looks on the faces of the Redwallers, she could tell that nobeast else had. Gathering up all of the petals, Swike let them fall into her lavatory pot in the corner.

Even she was able to tell the difference after that, and when her next meal arrived, she noticed Bryce's face light up with a smile, his eyes dancing between Swike and the pot. Lifil and Brandy also took notice of the difference.

"Let me see the lamp," said the hedgehog to Lifil. Brandy went into the corner to take a look. Bryce looked worried, his paw hovering in midair over his basket. Spikes bristling, Brandy turned on Swike. "Where did you get flowers?" she asked, covering the distance between them in two, huge strides. "Do you have herbs on you that we didn't find?"

Swike crouched down, trying to make herself as small as possible. "No," she said. "I don't have anything."

"Has anybeast else visited her?" Brandy was talking with the otter and shrew at the door.

"She's only had meals," one answered.

"You're certain?" asked Lifil.

"Yes."

"Where did you get the flowers?" demanded Brandy a second time.

Swike covered her head to avoid looking at either Brandy or Bryce. She didn't want to give the mouse away, for what he had done had been kind, but she didn't know what to say.

"Answer me rat!"

Swike began shaking, but she held her tongue between her teeth and refused to speak. A sharp kick to her ribs sent her head spinning; she gasped for air.

"Brandy!!" It wasn't Bryce but Lifil who had yelled. The otter was between them instantly, arms outstretched, guarding the crouching rat. So forceful was her intervention that she actually knocked the lamp out of Brandy's paw. It flew into the wall and crashed onto the floor, sending them all into sudden darkness. At the door, the guards cried in alarm.

"Don't let her escape!" Swike heard somebeast yell, but she hadn't yet moved.

Somebeast fell on top of her, sending a second shock wave of pain through her already sore ribs. Then the creature pressed their full weight on her body and spoke. "Are you Swike? Answer me."

"Yes," Swike replied, "but you don't need to squash me, Lifil."

The otter got off her instantly, though she kept a firm hold on Swike's arm.

Bryce soon appeared at the doorway with a torch. Apparently, he had run down the hallway soon after the light went out to claim the nearest torch off the wall. The light revealed a scene which impressed itself on all of their memories. Food lay scattered, some of it mixing with the broken shards which were all that remained of the lamp. Swike lay on the ground, not even daring to lift her head. And Brandy … she stood off to the side, facing the wall, looking totally lost.

Lifil rushed to the side of her elder. "Brandy? I didn't hurt you, did I? You know why I had to step in, don't you?" The hedgehog said nothing; she closed her eyes. Lifil began to wring her paws, looking toward Bryce for help.

The mouse took a few steps forward. "We should probably get this all cleaned up," he stated, matter-of-factly, looking not at Brandy, but at the floor.

Brandy opened her eyes, turned toward the door, and left without a word to anybeast. Lifil sighed, confused.

"I'm sure she went to get help," said one of the guards. "But it may be better to close and lock this door, after all that's happened."

"But we can't leave her alone," said Bryce.

Lifil looked down at the shattered lamp. "No, we can't," she agreed. Straightening up, she approached the two guards. "Please stand guard outside this door until help arrives," she commanded. "Bryce and myself will remain inside with Swike. Do not open the door without a direct order from myself or whoever comes to help."

As the door clicked shut, silence fell on the room. All three beasts regarded the other two. Slowly, Swike sat up, scooting back toward the wall. The otter and mouse watched her until she became still again.

"Where can I put the torch?" asked Bryce.

Lifil scanned the room. "I'm not sure there's a suitable place. We can't risk it going out. Can you just hold it, Bryce?"

Bryce nodded. He gazed warily at the otter a moment and then walked purposefully across the room and sat down next to Swike. Lifil looked as if she were about to rebuke him, but she shook her head and sat down in front of them instead.

Swike glanced back and forth between the two of them. She had been tense ever since Brandy and Lifil had taken notice of the scent of flowers in her cell, but now she finally relaxed. She sighed deeply and let her head tilt backward to touch the wall. Knowing that two pairs of eyes were on her but not wishing to meet their stare, she closed her own eyes.


	41. Dialogue

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-one: Dialogue**

"Um…" Bryce shifted where he sat. Pause.

"Is something the matter, Bryce?" asked Lifil.

"I … just …"

Swike didn't move. Her ribs were still paining her and she had no desire to do anything other than lean back against the wall. It appeared that she may be the only beast at their ease in the room though.

"Um … Rosethorn?"

Swike opened her eyes and looked at Bryce. She couldn't help it; it was too much of a habit for her to answer to Rosethorn.

It was Lifil who spoke next. "I know you want to ask her something. Go ahead. I'm not going to stop you."

Bryce smiled. "I just…" he gulped, "this isn't right! I don't care what you are, you're still Rosethorn. They can't do this to you! It's the most horrible thing I've ever seen happen to anybeast."

Bryce spoke with so much force and passion, but Swike found him incredibly naïve. "I've seen worse." She looked up at the ceiling. "I've experienced worse." They both stared at her as if at some experienced war veteran or some hero returned from a trip into the dark forest itself.

"Like what?" asked Lifil, leaning forward curiously.

_I could tell them tales that would give them nightmares. Though they've been through war, then know _nothing_! But why should I tell them anything? I thought for a second that Skipper may let me be, but he hasn't even returned. Goodbeasts enjoy acting as if they're so much better than vermin, but are they really?_

A thought occurred to her. Seeing that she still had an eager audience, she took her mind back. "When I was in the vermin camp, during the rain," Swike could see they were listening, "I was watching the battle. What I saw disgusted me. The vermin were using the time to clear the battlefield, and yet … and yet Redwall kept fighting. There was a weasel dragging two dead bodies behind him, but then he fell, an arrow in his back." Swike glared at them, as if demanding an explanation. "A _goodbeast_ had shot him!"

The two goodbeasts in front of her now looked shocked. They had obviously expected Swike to tell some sad tale of being wronged by vermin, but she had turned it back on them.

Lifil soon discarded her shocked expression. She stood up, towering over the rat. "This is war!" she said angrily, eyes narrowing. "What were we supposed to do? We weren't the ones who started this war. That was Koron. Or was it you?"

Swike felt as if she had been slapped.

"Lifil," cried Bryce. "Don't say such things. You surely don't think that Rosethorn-"

"Oh stop calling her Rosethorn, Bryce. You know that's not her name. She's not even using a fake voice anymore. So Swike, when did you decide to go to war? What did you have against Redwall?"

Bryce looked scared, eyes moving back and forth between the rat and otter. But Swike was not scared, at least not yet. She had met anger head on before. Unconsciously, Swike put up her paw to where her left ear used to be. "My father," she whispered, "sold me."

Bryce gasped; Lifil took a step backwards. The Abbey Champion hung her head and slowly slumped back down into a sitting position. Her expression reminded Swike strongly of the one Brandy had worn before leaving earlier.

"The way I see it," said Swike, "this war was pointless. It should have never happened. But nobeast ever asked me what I thought, or what I wanted. I was ordered around by others who were more powerful than I was, and I did what they told me to do. Even now," Swike swept her paw around to take in the tiny cell, "I'm still doing what others force me to do. But it's not like I have much of a choice. It's not like I've ever had much of a choice."

"You think the war was pointless?" whispered Lifil. She didn't look up at the rat.

"Yes, I do. So many have died," tears came into her eyes, "and I don't even know who's still alive."

"You-" Bryce sounded anxious, "you have somebeast out there, don't you? Somebeast you care for?"

Swike turned to look at the mouse. As she did so, she caught a whiff of the flower petals. Bryce was crying; suddenly, Swike felt her stomach sink. _It … can't … be. Does … does Bryce _like_ me?!_ "I … have a brother out there." For some reason, Swike couldn't bring herself to mention Riss.

"Pointless," Lifil mumbled. "I'm not sure that anything is pointless." Swike turned toward her slowly. "If not for this war … I wouldn't be the Abbey Champion. If not for this war, I never would have met you." Swike stared at her in amazement. "If not for this war, I might have lived my whole life and never known that I could call a vermin," she met Swike's eyes, "friend."

After a moment's silence, Bryce sprang to his feet. "So what are we going to do to help her?"

Lifil shook her head. "I'm not sure there's much we can do, Bryce. At least not right now. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to help her, at first. But … Swike, you care about others. Wherever you allegiances may lie, that's one thing I know for certain. And that's all I needed to know. But I wasn't sure until just now."

"But we have to _do _something!" said Bryce with feeling, whirling the torch about above his head.

"You already have," said Swike. Bryce stopped moving and gave the rat a confused look. "You gave me those flowers, and you sat and talked with me. Right now, that's enough."

"So _that's_ where the flowers came from!" exclaimed Lifil. "Bryce, that wasn't the wisest thing you've ever done. You really got Swike in trouble."

Bryce became downcast. "I know. And I'm sorry. Swike, are you hurt?"

Swike was about to answer "no," since she was feeling much better now, especially on a mental and emotional level, but she stopped suddenly. "You-you said my name!" She jumped up and gave the mouse a quick hug. He was blushing. He looked as if he were about to say something, but just then, they heard a commotion outside the door and somebeast was turning a key in the lock. Swike skipped over into the furthest corner and Lifil stood up, paw reaching for Martin's sword.

In came Skipper, Brandy and Spyn, the latter carrying a new lamp and a bag slung over his shoulder. Skipper scanned the room and nodded. "Thank you Bryce," he said. "That was quick thinking, but you can return the torch to where you found it." The mouse exited to do as Skipper bided. "Please set down the lamp, Spyn." The squirrel placed the lamp on the floor in the center of the room, his eyes on Swike as he did so. He then took his bag and emptied out its contents. A couple of candles, a flat plate, and a small brush rolled out. Without needing to be told, Lifil knelt down to help him. The two of them lit the candles from the lamp and set them around the shards of metal and glass left by the previous lamp, so that they could all be seen clearly. Bryce returned as the last candle was lit. Seeing what needed to be done, he picked up the plate and brush, brushing the sharp pieces onto the plate and depositing them into Spyn's bag.

As they worked, Skipper walked around them and stood next to Swike. Brandy remained with the otter and shrew at the door as an additional guard. Swike felt the urge to shuffle away from Skipper, but she stood her ground. He gazed, not at her, but at the three young beasts who were clearing away the broken lamp and separating out the food, which Swike realized was still to be left for her.

When there was very little left to be picked up, Lifil looked up at her father and Swike. Indecision was written upon her face. _You just called me friend_, thought Swike at her. _If you wanted, you could make that more than a word. _

"Skipper," said Lifil, addressing him formally, not familiarly, "you need to talk with Swike. Let her tell her story. I believe we can trust her."

"What?" said Spyn, jumping up. "She's a rat! She's the enemy, a spy, a trickster. She stole our confidence once before, with a disguise. Will you so eagerly give her your confidence again, after listening to a few more of her lies? We need to learn from our mistakes, not repeat them!"

Skipper held out a paw to quiet Spyn. "I understand your concerns, Spyn. But Lifil has a point. We cannot keep Swike here like this without ever giving her a chance to defend herself. You never know. She might have something to say that you would like to hear."

"I doubt it," spat the squirrel.

"Spyn, give her a break," said Bryce, daringly.

"A break? A break?! Have you taken a good look at Redwall lately, Bryce? We're practically living in a ruin, and it's all because of her." He shot an accusatory paw in Swike's direction. _All? I can't believe he can blame it _all_ on me so lightly._

"Swike," it was the first time Skipper had addressed her since entering the room.

"Yes."

"Where is your satchel?"

"My satchel?"

"Spyn remembers you saving it from the fire, but you weren't wearing it when you fell off the wall. So it must be here somewhere."

"It's in the gatehouse."

"The gatehouse?" yelled Spyn. "Just what were you doing in the gatehouse, spy?"

"That's enough of that," said Skipper. "Thank you Swike. But I'll say this. If your satchel isn't where you say it is, that will be very bad for you."

Swike nodded but said no more.

"I'm done," announced Bryce, picking up both the basket he had brought Swike's food in and the bag Spyn had supplied.

"Then there's only one thing left to do," said Skipper. "Everybeast, leave. I need a private word with Swike."

Without question, Brandy, Bryce, and Spyn left. Lifil remained rooted to the spot. "I'm not leaving," she said. It was not a suggestion, but a fact. Skipper nodded and the door was closed and locked.

"When did you grow up?" Skipper mused, still gazing at his daughter.

"Long before you realized," she answered.

He frowned, but nodded once more. "Swike," he said, returning to the issue at paw, "I hope you understand that I need to know where you got dried flower petals. Brandy said you refused to answer her, but without that knowledge, we cannot help but see you as a threat."

Swike was struck by his words and demeanor. No vermin captain she had ever met had come across as so kind. Still, she was loath to answer. Her eyes flitted to Lifil's face. The otter smiled encouragingly. Swike sighed.

"I found them under the scones in my last meal."

Skipper smiled, and laughed. Without giving his thoughts on the incident, he walked over to Swike's food and turned over every item to see what lay beneath. Nothing could be found besides the food. Still with a smile on his face, he picked up the lamp and knocked on the door. It was opened for him and he passed through.

"What's going to happen to Bryce?" whispered Swike.

"He'll be fine," Lifil answered. Then she too left.


	42. Irreality and Inquiry

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-two: Irreality and Inquiry**

Bees buzzed among the strawberries. Hidden within the bushes, Swike and Maren giggled, covered in the bright, red juice. They were like dibbuns again, without a care in the world.

"Swike," said the mousemaid.

"Yes?"

"Think fast!"

Swike had no time to dodge as the pawful of strawberries crashed into her snout. "Hey! Heyhehehehehe." Swike brushed the strawberries away, turning on the mouse to cram strawberries into her face in return.

But Maren wasn't there. Confused, the rat looked around for her friend, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Swike!" Maren was yelling. She sounded far away.

Swike jumped up, but she was still in the strawberry bushes, and they pulled at her clothing like claws. She was too tangled to escape.

"Swike!! Help!" The calls were more frantic, but they were also fainter.

_How is she so far away?_

Swike tried to call out Maren's name, but all she could do was spit out strawberries. Tears of frustration ran down her face as she battled the strawberry bushes.

"Swi—

* * *

Swike started awake. The sun, the bees, the strawberries were all gone, replaced with a solid blackness. The rat reached around in terror, lost. Her paw brushed along the floor and bumped into the wall … of her cell. 

_It was a dream._ Swike knew where she was now. She was still deep beneath Redwall, locked in a cell for the simple offence of being a rat. _No, that's not fair. They locked me up because I'm a spy, not just because I'm a rat._

Swike closed her eyes, since she could see nothing either way, and she pondered over her dream. The specifics were already drifting away, leaving behind the gut wrenching feeling of being trapped. She curled up in a ball, hugging herself, and eventually drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Swike." 

Swike pushed out a paw feebly, wanting only to sleep.

"Swike, wake up."

The rat's eyes fluttered open. An otter was peering down at her.

"It's the middle of the day."

Swike blinked. "It is?" She was starting to sit up. "I can't tell what time it is here."

"I guess not," said Ronn, for it was Ronn, and he had an open box at his side, smelling of herbs. He rummaged through it without purpose for a moment. He seemed unable to meet Swike's eyes, now that she was fully awake.

"Ronn?" Char prodded.

The young Infirmary helper sighed. "Swike-I-need-to-check-your-health," he said quickly. The rat frowned sadly at him. _Ronn too. Nobeast is comfortable around me anymore. Except Bryce; maybe Lifil._ Swike looked around the room for one of these two, but they weren't there. Besides Ronn and Char, there were two mice whom Swike barely recognized but didn't know. "Does-anything-hurt?" demanded Ronn.

"I-uh. I'm not sure." Swike began to stretch out her limbs, still tight with sleep. Ronn slid backwards instantly. _I'm just going to ignore him,_ Swike decided. She stood up, stretching out further. As she twisted from side to side, she noticed that she could still feel a little pain in her ribs. Touching the back of her head, she could also feel the bump Martin's sword had left, though her head no longer ached. "It still hurts where Brandy kicked me," Swike announced, "but that's all." When Ronn neither moved nor spoke, Swike sat down in front of him again. "Should I lie on my side?" she asked.

"Sure," replied the otter.

Swike did so. She pulled up the side of her shirt enough to expose the area where Brandy's footpaw had made contact. Ronn breathed in sharply. Looking down, Swike saw that she had a nasty bruise. It looked much worse than it felt.

Ronn quickly set to work on Swike's bruise. The rat was happy to note that he treated her professionally, and his paws were as calming and precise as they had ever been. Swike nearly fell asleep again, but she snapped awake when Ronn began putting his things away and got up to leave. He turned his back on her and was nearly through the door before she could sit up.

"Thank you!" called Swike.

Ronn halted in midstep, his back tense. But he said nothing, and was soon moving again and out of sight. Char and the two mice also left without a word.

Swike's forehead creased with annoyance and she pouted at the darkness. But the expression was too uncomfortable to hold for long, so with a sigh, she let it go. Though she was still tired, the comment _It's the middle of the day_ kept her awake. Resting her chin in her paws and her elbows on her knees, she stared intently at the line of light coming in under the door.

She didn't know how long she sat in that way, her eyes going out of focus and her muscles stiffening. All she knew was that, at some point, she began to see things that weren't there. The sliver of light expanded until it filled her whole field of vision. It flickered and pulsed like something alive. Curiously and without fear, Swike continued to stare into the light. It was golden yellow in color and dark shapes darted across it, like birds flying in front of the sun. Splotches of green began to creep along the edges of her sight. She was reminded of leaves, shaking in a slight breeze.

"Swike honey."

Swike jerked backwards, slamming her head into the wall behind her. The pain sent circles of color whirling before her eyes, finally leveling back into the darkness of her cell. Gone was the light, the … vision? Swike bit her lip. _Can't be. There's no such things as visions._ But she had a hard time convincing herself that nothing had happened. For a moment, she had seen the outdoors. She realized now that she had been looking up at the sky. It had been quite vivid, though she hadn't recognized the vision for what it was at first. And the voice… Swike knew that voice, and it had been as clear as if the vixen had been sitting right in front of her. _Naysta _she mouthed, but dared not even to whisper the name aloud.

Swike shivered, but not with cold. In another time or place, she would have pushed the experience into the back of her mind and done her best to forget it, but alone, in the dark, the thoughts continued to resurface again and again in her mind. _That was Naysta. She was here. Or, not here, but somewhere where the sun in shining. And she spoke to me, she really spoke to me. I had a vision. I've never had a vision before._

Swike had finally stopped arguing against the existence of the supernatural. She hated to admit it, but she didn't really have a case against it any longer. _But how did she contact me? Did I do anything, or was it all Naysta's doing? Was I in a trance? How would I get back into a trance? If I had said something, would Naysta have heard me?_ The change in Swike was total. No longer did she fear this thing which she couldn't understand. Maybe, just maybe, Naysta could get her out of here.

Swike began to recall as many memories of the fox as she could. The last time she had seen her, the vixen had been sickly from lack of food and sleep. Half-crazed, she had run out in search of the serpent within Mossflower as a last ditch effort to please Lord Koron. The reason for Naysta's sickly appearance also came back to Swike and she felt the fur stand up on the back of her neck. _Martin! But … how did she contact me just now? I'm in Redwall. I thought Martin was blocking her sight. Did he stop? Is Naysta more powerful than him?_ Remembering Martin's tapestry, Swike quickly discarded this last option. _Martin must have let her through. But why? He told Lifil that I'm a threat. Why help me out now?_

Swike's head was pounding. She knew that she needed to get a hold on her racing thoughts. _There is nothing I can do about any of this right now. Not unless Naysta contacts me again._

Swike's thoughts were interrupted as somebeast began to open the door to her cell. Her entire body jerked forward. She felt the need to disguise what she had been doing, as if she should shield the afterimage of the vision with her body. But, of course, no such afterimage hung in the air and she had no true need to move at all. She quickly turned her jerk into a scrambling motion to stand.

Five Redwallers entered Swike's cell and arranged themselves before her. A brooding feeling descended on the room. As the door closed behind them, Brandy and Spyn stood to either side of the door, eyes never leaving the rat. Each of them carried a torch in one paw. The other three took up positions in a line before Swike, sitting down upon pillows they had brought along with them. To Swike's left, there was the familiar face of Skipper, to her right, sat the aged squirrel Chinley, and directly in front of her, she looked upon the Abbess herself.

"Please sit, Swike," said Abbess Pojam calmly.

The rat sat instantly.

"How many units did Lord Koron send after Skipper at the beginning of the war?" asked the Abbess.

Swike started. While she understood that she would be questioned during this visit, she hadn't been expecting this type of question, especially not as a first question. It felt like she were being asked to do reverse spying, for the Redwallers' benefit. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she decided that there was no harm in this particular question. "Two," she answered.

"And what is Raynat's position in the army?" asked Skipper.

Again, Swike twitched sharply. _Now how'd they find out about Raynat?_ "He's the … um … he was Koron's assassin."

"And your official position is?" continued the otter.

"I'm … spy and master of disguise."

"When did the main army march when they decided to finally attack Redwall?" asked the Abbess.

"They-" Swike stopped suddenly. _I know what they're doing! They have my satchel, and I still had the letters in there that Lord Koron sent me. They already know the answers to these questions. They're checking to see if I'll answer their questions truthfully. _"They marched at noon." She answered confidently. _Still, they can't have known about Raynat, though his name may have been mentioned in one of those letters._

"Who is your brother and what is his position?" Chinley spoke for the first time. Swike knew that this was the first question they were asking blindly.

"Swifcut is-" she began, gulping as she wondered, not for the first time, if he were still alive, "_is_," she continued strongly, discarding the possibility of his death, "the second-in-command." She allowed herself to be proud of her brother, and she knew that the goodbeasts had noticed. They all appeared unsettled, both at Swike's pronouncement and at her prideful manner. Spyn took a step forward, but for once, he didn't speak out in anger or alarm.

"Would-" Abbess Pojam cleared her throat, "would he have been fighting by Lord Koron's side, during the uprising within the army?"

Swike shook her head. "He would have been fighting _against_ Koron," she said.

"Of course," said Chinley. Both Pojam and Skipper turned to look at the squirrel. "The rats were fighting back. You knew this was going to happen, didn't you Swike?"

"I – yes."

"And your brother led them?"

"He, well, sort of. But it was Raynat's idea."

"So Raynat is a rat?" asked Skipper.

"Yes," replied Swike. "But barely anybeast knows that. Most who get close enough to see what he is don't live to tell of it." The Abbess cringed.

"This is horrible," said Spyn abruptly.

"Spyn!" cautioned Brandy.

"But-" Brandy was about to put Spyn in his place when the Abbess stopped her.

"It's alright Brandy. Let him speak, at least this once."

"Thank you, Abbess," said Spyn quickly. "But this is horrible. We know there are still rats out there, somewhere. Surely, they won't leave us alone, when we have one of their own held captive. They're a smaller force than Lord Koron's army was, but they still outnumber us. And that Raynat character sounds dangerous. He may even be able to get inside Redwall."

Skipper nodded. "What you say is true, Spyn. But what's the solution?"

The squirrel didn't have a ready answer.

"But somebeast here _may_ have the solution," said Chinley unexpectedly.

"Who?" asked Abbess Pojam.

Chinley stared at the rat sitting in front of him. "Swike," he said.


	43. Of Trust

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-three: Of Trust**

Swike stared stupidly at Chinley for a moment. She didn't know how to respond, but she probably wouldn't have been fast enough, even if she had had a response ready.

"Are you nuts?" exploded Spyn. He looked about to spring forward, but Brandy barred his way.

"You know," said Chinley cheerfully, "I don't believe I am."

Swike couldn't help the smile which formed on her face, though she held up a paw to hide it. A moment later though, it was gone again, as the gravity of the situation weighed down upon her.

"Swike," addressed Chinley, "what do you think we should do?"

_He just _may_ be nuts. Why in the world would they ask me such a question? Aren't I their enemy? Of course, they would expect me to tell them to let me go free. But that isn't necessarily the best option, from their point of view. Do they want me to be torn in two: to give them advice for themselves which will then make my position worse?_

"Is your mind blank too? It isn't the easiest dilemma to solve," mused the old squirrel.

"I-" Swike stopped, uncertainly.

"I'm not sure what you're getting at, Chinley," said Skipper.

"Nor I," admitted the Abbess.

"Why," said the squirrel, "I thought it was quite obvious. We, here, have very limited knowledge about the goings on within Koron's army. Sure, we know a lot about how the army fights and how and when various units war and rest. But about the thoughts of the vermin, about the various alliances within their ranks, we know nothing. Swike, here, is the only beast among us who could, if she would, shed some light on that topic.

"Swike may know why the rats of the army fought against Koron. She may know who, now, leads the much smaller force of rats. She may also be able to guess whether these rats will leave us well alone or else war against us in order to retrieve her. She may wish to return to them right now … or she may wish to stay here, with us."

During these last few words, Chinley looked deep into Swike's eyes. It took a moment for her to digest their meaning, but when she did, she felt at peace. To stay in Redwall…

"But it doesn't really matter what she knows or what she wants," said Spyn. "She'll only lie to us again and take advantage of us again. She's a vermin. That's what vermin do."

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions," said Chinley. He turned to look upon the much younger squirrel. "When did Swike take more advantage of us than a goodbeast would? She slept in one of our beds, ate our food, and enjoyed our company. Did she ever raise a paw to cause harm to anybeast within these walls? Did she ever try to poison us or sabotage our war efforts? She had enough chances to do all of this and more, but did she?"

"She's a spy," said Spyn defensively. "She had to fit in. She couldn't afford the suspicion. She could secretly hate us all and just hide her hatred, for all we know."

"Nobeast knows Swike's true feelings toward us but Swike herself," said the Abbess quietly. "Nobeast knows her true feelings toward the vermin but Swike either. You are right, Spyn, to not trust her, but you are wrong at the same time. After all she has done, because of what she is, none may safely trust her, but that does not mean that she is undeserving of trust. We do not know whether she would be loyal to Redwall or not, but I do believe that she will be loyal to those whom she loves and cares for, though they may forever doubt her loyalty." The Abbess stood up, picking up her pillow as she did. "Swike," she said kindly. "I may be wrong, but I believe that I trust you. I feel that you have been sincere both in everything you have said today, and more importantly, in your actions to all during your stay in Redwall. Now, if you may answer Chinley's question quickly, the sooner we may leave you. These old bones of mine do not take kindly to sitting on the floor and I long for the chair up in my room."

Swike's mind was in a whirlwind. The Abbess' words had touched her heart; she felt a great need to jump up, hug the old mouse, kiss her on the cheek, and thank her. Words had been spoken within the past few minutes which spelled out Swike's whole existence. Made into a spy against her will, she had been forced to leave all trust behind. Even those whom she loved she could never force to believe in her or her intentions. No amount of promises or explanations would ever suffice. But even if doubt remained, forever, she still believed in herself and in her own attitudes and actions, and she knew that she meant no harm to anybeast in the room or in the whole of Redwall Abbey.

She took a deep breath. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, if only I know the answer," she said. "But I'll need to hear the question one more time."

Spyn turned his back on Swike, hunching his shoulders moodily.

"Knowing that Koron is dead and his army disbanded and guessing that the rats remained united and are not far off, what are we to do with you, Swike?" asked Chinley.

Swike mulled the question over, seriously. "I won't go back," she announced. "But I wish I knew if my brother were still alive. And one other as well." Her shoulders slumped as two rat faces flitted across her mind. "But I don't think you should fear the rats. They didn't want to come here. The army didn't want to come here. It was only Koron who did." She paused. _Ask them to free you. Ask them to free you!_ "And that's … all the advice I can give you now." _I can't ask that of them. I just … can't._

"You're positive that they do not value you enough to come to your rescue?" asked Chinley.

Swike frowned. _Swifcut nearly died, defending me against Jaoto. And Riss, though he didn't know who I was, pushed me out of the way of those arrows during the tournament for a new captain. Even Raynat and Naysta did their best to nurse me back to health when I was injured._ "They … actually may," she said. "There are some who would probably come to my rescue." _Is that why Naysta spoke to me? Are they looking for me? But she's a fox; would she be with the rats?_

Skipper nodded. "Thank you, Swike. We'll leave you to your dinner then."

He got up to leave. Chinley and Abbess Pojam left behind him. Swike was going to ask what Skipper meant about dinner when she spied Bryce through the open door. Looking anxious, the mouse squeezed into the room. Swike nearly embraced him, she was so happy to see his face, but she settled for helping him instead. Between the two of them, they had the basket emptied in the thrice. Unfortunately, this meant that it was time for Bryce to leave, and Spyn made sure he did so quickly. Swike was then left to her dinner, as Skipper had said she would be.

* * *

The next morning, when Swike's cell door was opened, nobeast came inside. Timidly, Swike walked to the open door and out into the hall. Standing to either side of her were Char and Gyis. Two otter guards were already retreating down the hallway.

"Hello," said Char.

"What's going on?" asked Swike.

"You're free," said Gyis, "sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Well," said Char, "you'll have one of us with you everywhere you go. But you're free to move around Redwall again."

Swike stared at the two of them, her eyes widening with realization, and her lip quivering as she teared up. Gyis, _the sister of Spyn_, lay a paw on Swike's shoulder.

"Please don't cry," she said soothingly. "If you come with me, I can take you to a room where you can wash and then we have some clean, fresh clothes for you."

Sniffing, Swike banished her tears. Gyis was as true as her word. Soon, Swike felt clean and comfortable. She let Gyis shadow her without objection as the two of them went up to their breakfast. The Great Hall had been one of the first places reclaimed by the Redwallers and it was fit for use as a dinning hall once more, though it was darker than it had once been, since the broken stained-glass windows had been covered with cloth till they could be fixed properly. Char had saved a place next to his left side for Swike. As she sat, Gyis sat down on Swike's other side. Swike smiled. _I don't think I could have ever imagined such guards as these. It may be impossible to get away from them, but I don't feel smothered at all._

A mouse ran up to the table, across from Swike, and launched herself bodily over the dishes. Her arms encircled Swike's head a moment later.

"Maren!" snapped an elderly mouse. "Your manners are better than that!"

With an apology, Maren backed off the table, still grinning at the stunned rat. A laugh erupted from her mouth and Swike nearly began to cry. "It's so good to see you," she said. "And to hear you laugh. I don't think I've heard you laugh since before the war."

Maren frowned. "I don't think I remember the last time I laughed, actually." She grinned. "But let's not talk about that. I'm happy to be happy right now." Her laughter rang out again.

Swike smiled. A real smile. But the smile soon evaporated. She couldn't help but notice that Maren's eyes continued to slide over the room at large. More concerned with the state of the room than the beasts within it when she entered, Swike now turned her attention to the Redwallers. Nearly every eye was on her and the three beasts around her. Swike put her head down so that she was looking at the food being set on the table and little else.

Maren leaned forward. "It's not right," she whispered. "The way they're treating you isn't right. I've tried so hard to convince them that you're trustworthy, but it's been hard."

Also whispering, Gyis joined in the conversation. "Maren had so much confidence in you, Swike. I believe in you too."

Swike looked sidelong at the squirrel. She had a bite of food halfway to her mouth, but she set it back down. "But you…"

"I know," interrupted Gyis. "I know that I shouldn't trust you, but here I am." She smiled weakly. "My brother wanted to be one of your guards," she said suddenly.

"But that would have been bad," said Char, not looking at the other three.

"Yes," admitted Gyis. "He was so passionate about guarding you. He only relented when I stepped forward to take his place. But … he still may be around a lot. You should know that."

"Just don't do anything stupid," announced Char.

"She wouldn't!" defended Maren.

"You don't know that," said Char quickly.

Maren looked upset, but she didn't say anything in reply. Now in silence, the four of them ate. Swike remained constantly aware of the many pairs of eyes turned in her direction. It made her feel dirty, and she wondered if the bath had really been worth the trouble.


	44. Rebuilding

A/N: My thanks go out to Riverfox237, who helped me with the molespeech in this chapter!

* * *

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-four: Rebuilding**

Swike stood up, stretching out her back. She brushed a paw across her brow to wipe away the sweat. It was a particularly hot day, but Swike had no complaints. She was just happy to see the sun and the sky again.

"Taking a break, rat?"

Swike stood still, keeping her eyes on the tree line barely visible over the wall of Redwall. _I'm not going to look at whoever just said that._ She closed her eyes momentarily, feeling the breeze which touched her face. Then with a sigh, she bent back to her work.

Swike was scattering grass seeds over the ground. The churned up, dried mud which had been there as a result of the war had been leveled out the day before. Gyis wasn't far away, with her own bag of seeds. While not strenuous, the work was monotonous and Swike felt the need to stretch on a regular basis. Still, she was content with her lot. It was better than the work going on at the abbey, in any case.

Chinley was overseeing the mass rebuilding of Redwall Abbey. All strong beasts were helping to push and pull blocks into place. Every once in a while, Swike could look up and see Lifil, Spyn and Char hard at work. The Badgermum and Skipper were in charge of directing beasts who brought up new stones from a quarry away in Mossflower. A group of shrews, led by Log-a-Log were combing the woods in search of any straggler vermin who might cause trouble for the beasts on their way to and from the quarry.

Swike had been shocked, when she first stepped outside. The change in Redwall, over such a short period of time, had been unreal. All of the dead had been moved out beyond the walls, the ground had been leveled, half of the damage done to the abbey had been repaired, and the Redwallers continued their work with a vengeance. She had been assigned instantly to grounds duty, alongside Gyis. With about a dozen other beasts, it was her job to plant grass, pull up weeds, and tend to the orchards and gardens which Redwall relied upon so dearly.

_If work continues like this, Redwall will be good as new in just a few more days._

Though time crawled by at a snail's pace, Swike seeded the entire northwest corner and found that lunchtime had finally come. Placing an arm around Swike's shoulders, Gyis flashed her a smile. "We're making good progress," the squirrel said cheerily. "And I heard that Jennet caught a huge fish early this morning and Cata fixed it up for lunch! I'm starving, how about you?"

Swike's stomach growled. She grinned slightly. "I'm pretty hungry too."

Lunch was a much more pleasant affair than breakfast had been. A few beasts sat near Swike, her guards, and Maren. Most of these new beasts had been on grounds duty and had witnessed Swike's willingness to help rebuild Redwall firstpaw. One of them, a mole named Lanton, patted Swike on the shoulder and insisted on sitting between her and Char. The otter seemed about to object, but then with a wan smile, he scooted over. The group of beasts became so engaged in conversation and laughter that they didn't notice lunch was over until Brandy came by their table and set down a pitcher of water a little rougher than necessary. Biting her lip to hold in a laugh, Swike got up with the goodbeasts and they all went their separate ways to continue work.

Within an hour, Swike found herself in the orchards, pruning dead branches away that hadn't been dealt with since before the war. She used a pair of shears Chinley had designed and found herself wondering how the Redwallers had managed this job before, without such a tool. "They must have had something similar," she mumbled to herself. "I bet Chinley just reused the idea. He couldn't possibly pull _all_ of his ideas out of thin air."

She cut down another branch, skipping to the side as it crashed to the earth.

"Swoike!"

Swike turned at the shout.

"'Elp oi, Swoike!"

Then Swike saw him. Lanton had climbed up into one of the trees to pick some ripe fruits in the higher branches, but he had gone too far. It looked like he had been out on a branch which couldn't hold his weight and it had snapped. He now hung precariously, dangling from a branch with one paw as his other limbs splayed out, searching for other branches to cling to. Swike was by far the closest beast to him.

Dropping the shears, she sprinted in Lanton's direction. Her stride was so long that she nearly tripped herself up and fell over, but she managed to get her footpaws under control after the first couple wild steps. Heart pounding against her chest, she reached the tree and jumped up to grab the lowest branch. Once on it, she was able to reach out and take hold of Lanton's leg. She steadied him and pulled him over to where she was. Once he was safely on the same branch she was sitting on, she let out a deep sigh.

"Thank'ee Swoike," said Lanton, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, tears of fright still standing in the corners of his eyes.

"Just what were you doing?" the rat asked sternly. "Aren't you on grounds duty because of your digging abilities? Leave the climbing to squirrels, like Gyis."

"I couldn't have said it better," said Gyis. She had obviously noticed the situation and come running as well. Now she sat on the next branch up, looking down and smiling at the two of them. "But it looks like the help of a rat was enough today. Swike, you've climbed a tree or two in your time, I'll bet."

Swike grinned as memories of gripping a tree one-pawed for dear life while leveling a bow at a crow with the other came back to her. But along with this memory returned one of Koron ordering her into a forest full of crows, not yet made allies. "Never of my own choice, I'm afraid," she said.

Gyis nodded. "Understood." She helped Lanton out of the tree and then came back up for Swike.

"I love the ground," said Swike, barely resisting the urge to flop down on her stomach and embrace the dirt.

"Burr aye!" said Lanton, in agreement.

"Nice work," a voice said grudgingly. Swike turned to see that she actually had quite an audience. About a dozen goodbeasts were standing around, all of them eyeing Swike curiously. Spyn was the nearest, arms crossed over his chest, and she knew he had been the beast to speak.

"Thanks," Swike replied weakly.

"Alright," said Gyis, stepping in front of Swike. "Show's over. Lanton's fine, so we can all get back to work."

The goodbeasts on grounds duty all nodded, some of them patting Lanton on the back before heading back to work, two of them shaking Swike by the paw as well.

"Brother," said Gyis. Spyn, who had already turned to leave, stopped to look back over his shoulder. "You're wandering far out from the abbey, aren't you?"

Spyn knit his eyebrows together in annoyance. "Just leave me alone, sis." Hunching his shoulders, he began to half-jog toward his own work.

"Ee'm doan't trust Swoike," said Lanton sadly. "Whoi not?"

Swike looked down at the ground.

"That's a long story, Lanton," said Gyis. "But I will say this. He has good reason, even if he takes things a bit far at times. Don't look down on him for it, please."

"Ne'er! Oi jus' wurry 'bout 'im, an' Swoike." The mole placed a paw on Swike's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze to show his gratitude and concern. Swike met his eye and saw he was smiling, though sadly. "But all'll work out," he said brightly. "Oi knows it! Oi sees what you'm be doin', Swoike. You'm be rebuildin, not jus' Redwall, but yoreself, too. An' burr aye, they'm all'll know it, sooner 'r later. You'm jus' keep at it, Swoike, an' e'en Spin'll notice, hurr. Ee'm carn't be bloind fore'er."

Swike sniffed, trying to keep her eyes from tearing up. "I hope so," she whispered. "It's hard work, gaining trust, and I sometimes think that I'll never come out on the other side."

"You'm will," said Lanton.

* * *

As the sun began to set, Char came over to see how Swike was doing. Sweaty, dirty, and exhausted, she managed to smile and wave at him. Just then, she heard the bell ring out to signal dinner. She couldn't help it. She laughed.

"What's so funny?" asked Char.

"Oh, haha, I'm sorry. I just, hehe, realized what you were doing here."

"Really?" asked the otter. "And what's that?"

"I hadn't even noticed that Gyis left, hehe, but she must have, because there's the bell. So, ahaha, you had to come watch over me, in her stead."

"And you found that funny?" Char wasn't laughing. He stood over her, with the sun to his back, menacing and in shadow.

Swike stopped laughing, taking a step back instinctively. Not that it mattered, for Char took two steps forward.

"Watching over you is no joke, Swike. Gyis and myself report regularly to Skipper and Lifil, and the slightest bad report would place you back in that cell. I'll have to mention, now, that you don't think much about your guards-"

"No, I-"

"And," Char's voice rose in volume, "that maybe Spyn was right in saying that two guards would not be enough. Did you know that there are a few beasts in these walls who wouldn't mind the job of keeping an arrow trained on you, night and day?"

"I didn't mean-"

"Stop," ordered the otter. "I don't want to hear it. I believe you deserve another chance just as much as many others do, but I don't like seeing you taking everything so lightly. Just follow me and we'll meet up with Gyis."

Saddened and frightened by what had just happened, Swike obeyed, walking next to her guard. He led the way inside, where Gyis found them. The squirrel was smiling, unaware that a rift now existed between Swike and Char.

"Hurry, Swike! Let's go get cleaned up. It smells wonderful, and I'm starving!"

A few minutes later, the newly clean rat and squirrel sat down at their now-crowded table. Swike found Char sitting across from her while she was allowed to sit between Gyis and Maren. The mousemaid gave her a quick sideways hug, smelling very strongly of soap. Lanton, sitting next to Char, was loudly recounting his close call and his rescue by Swike to anybeast who would listen, only pausing for an occasional bite of his deeper 'n ever pie.

Swike stared hard into Char's face before saying anything.

"So Maren."

"Yes?"

"I haven't seen you all day, except at meals. What have you been doing?"

"Cleaning," said the mouse, "and rearranging furniture, and washing linens, and then more cleaning. I haven't stepped outside in two days! Tomorrow will probably be more of the same. But I'll be with the next group to go out gathering herbs. Unfortunately, they're not running out just yet."

"Unfortunately?" asked Gyis.

"Oh," Maren blushed. "Well, I didn't mean it that way. Of course, it's wonderful that the infirmary is so well stocked at the moment. But I just get stuffy, staying indoors all day."

"I know," say Gyis. "I was just teasing you."

"Can I come?" asked Swike.

"Come where?" replied Gyis. Char looked up from his food to listen.

"T-to gather herbs?"

"I don't see any reason why not," said Maren. "I'd be happy to have you there."

"Well, we'll have to get permission," said Gyis. "But I'll ask, Swike."

Char said nothing but nodded his agreement. Swike dropped the topic, hoping that it would succeed in the end, but not wanting to push her luck. Listening to Lanton, she tucked into her own food.


	45. The Dead

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-five: The Dead**

The sun dawned on a Redwall already awake and busily working. Swike had risen an hour before sunrise with the rest, eager to show the Redwallers that she had changed and wished only to see Redwall made back into the majesty it had been before the war. She found herself in the gardens in the morning, pulling up a never-ending supply of weeds. The chore had been abandoned for far too long and many of the crops which the Redwallers raised had been smothered by the weeds. Without special and continuous care, they would fail.

Swike brought up her concerns over lunch, and she found many beasts in agreement with her. Maren became so passionate about the fate of the fruits, vegetables, and flowers that she convinced the Abbess to allow her to change jobs. And so it was that the afternoon saw Maren kneeling among the plants, pulling up weeds, pruning, and generally caring for all the green things growing around Redwall.

The chance to get outside and to remain close to Swike, the rat was sure, had been part of Maren's passion for a job change. But Swike couldn't complain. As she trudged back and forth from the pond with buckets of water to water the plants, she got many a wave and a hello from the mousemaid.

She spent nearly the whole of the afternoon on these water runs, occasionally bringing water to workers throughout the abbey, when she wasn't feeding the thirsty plant life. Though tired, muddy, and wet, she found the work fulfilling. More than a few goodbeasts met her with a smile and a thank you as they took a short water break at her side.

For the first time, she noticed that she drifted to places out-of-sight of Char and Gyis. Always, though, she noticed either Spyn or Lifil nearby, keeping an eye on her. _I guess this means my number of guards actually did go up. Which is better than being back in that cell, I must admit._ Swike hadn't thought much about Char's reprimand from the day previous, but she felt foolish whenever she did._ I really can't blame him. He must feel proud and honored to be one of my guards, and then for me to laugh at the whole idea like that…how would I have reacted?_

* * *

The day ended quickly and without any notable changes, save Swike receiving many more "good night" wishes than she had ever had in her entire stay in Redwall. The next day might have held more of the same, for all Swike could guess, but she found an interesting surprise when she awoke the next morning.

Jennet leaned over her, shaking her shoulder slightly. "Today," she whispered, when she noticed that Swike was awake, "we administer to the dead. We're going to burn the vermin this morning and bury the goodbeasts later tonight. But, since you're a vermin, you've been given permission to look at the vermin before we burn them. If you find one or two you wish to bury, you may later."

Swike felt as if somebeast were squeezing her heart. She was at a lost for words. What if, among the dead, she found Swifcut, or Riss? But she knew it would be even worse is she didn't look, if she never knew.

Mouth too dry to say a word, Swike got up and followed Jennet. Char and a few other otters joined them as they walked outside. The sun just began to peek through the trees as they exited the southern wall gate. Swike saw that nearly as much work had been done around the walls of Redwall as had been done inside. All of the dead had been deposited on the far side of the ditch. As she came closer, Swike could smell the stench coming off of the bodies, though muted with the cold of morning.

"We've separated them by species," one of the otters said. Then, pointing from left to right he named them, "ferrets, weasels, rats, stoats, crows, and foxes."

A single glance told Swike that the crows and weasels had been the worst off, but the rats still left many dead. Without a second thought, she ran toward the rats, searching each face for one she hoped not to find.

All was silent as Swike shifted through the bodies, piled three or four deep in some places. The stench was lost upon Swike, but she noticed that a few of the otters had to walk away at times, and they all held a kerchief up to their noses and mouths frequently.

Some of the faces were no longer recognizable. Swike strayed the longest on these rats, but a close inspection of body build and outfit was enough to calm her fears. The otters took a break around midmorning to eat, but no amount of coaxing could pull Swike away. She went without food, and if she was hungry, she wasn't aware of it.

Finally, she looked upon the very last rat. It was nobeast whom she knew, yet she couldn't pull her eyes away. Jennet came up behind her.

"Do you know him?" she asked softly.

"No," said Swike. "I might have recognized a few of them, but I knew none of them." Still, Swike looked into the face of the last rat. He had a cut on his nose, but besides that, his face remained untouched. Even though Swike knew he was dead, he might have only been sleeping, at peace and at rest.

"Do you need to look at any of the other beasts?" asked Char, now on Swike's other side.

Swike finally pulled her eyes away from the dead. She thought about Char's question a moment. "No, I don't need to look at anybeast else. But can I see Koron?"

One of the other otters took her to a single body lied out the furthest from the abbey. Sure enough, it was Lord Koron, though only his torn clothes would have told Swike that now. His entire body had been ripped asunder. It looked almost as if every rat in the army had taken a stab at him, leaving nothing behind but broken bones, wads of fur, and slivers of muscle, everything bloody. Though she had been among the dead all morning, Swike had been unprepared for this sight. Leaning over, she tried to deposit her stomach on the ground, but since her stomach was empty, she ended up dry retching painfully until Char was able to drag her away. He lay her on the ground away from the gruesome sight.

Tears of rage rose in Swike's eyes and she beat at the ground. "Why?" she asked, though her dry mouth was barely able to form the word. "Why did he do this? It was senseless, the whole thing was senseless. It had to end this way. Either the army or Redwall would have to end up this way. Why did he do it?" And then she became quiet and ceased moving.

The otters weren't able to revive her enough to get her to move again, so Char and Jennet picked her up and carried her back to Redwall, as they had once carried her into the Redwallers' camp. Then they set fire to the dead vermin; Swike didn't watch.

Under Jennet and Maren's instruction, Swike was able to get herself together enough to wash the scent of death off of her and don fresh clothing once more. By the time she was presentable, it was time for lunch.

Many beasts felt obligated to offer their condolences and Swike lost track of the number of pats, hugs, and words of kindness she received over lunch. She met it all with a fake smile pasted on her blank face. But gradually, realization of a truth she had only hoped for sunk into her being. _Alive. Swifcut. Riss. Even Raynat, probably Naysta. They're all alive._

Near the end of lunch, Swike felt somebeast sit down next to her in Maren's recently vacated seat. A paw, shaking slightly, rested on her own. Somehow, Swike knew it was Bryce without even needing to look.

"I heard you didn't know anybeast," said the mouse softly. "I'm happy for that. That means that your brother … and maybe … any friends, are still out there. Right?"

Swike nodded.

"Then…?"

Swike looked up when Bryce didn't continue. "Then?" she asked.

"Will you … be leaving us? Will you go to find them?"

"I can't leave," Swike said matter-of-factly. "Not now. I'm still a captive, even if I don't look like one. But if I could … I don't know. I don't know what life I really want any more. A life with vermin, or a life with goodbeasts."

Bryce squeezed her paw momentarily, but he didn't say anything before he got up to leave. Swike watched him go. He stopped once, as if he was going to turn around and say something else, but in the next instant, he sped up and was through the kitchen doors.

* * *

Though work continued throughout the afternoon, everybeast moved at a slower pace and nobeast seemed to care for those who chose to take more and longer breaks. Fewer than two score goodbeasts had perished in the war, but many of the Redwallers had been impacted by those deaths. Most of the dead had been otters, shrews, and birds, and Swike found herself at Maren's side, out of the way of those in grief over their loved ones.

Finally, work halted altogether. Swike and Maren sat on the grass, near the strawberry bushes, only waiting for the time when they would walk out to the graves.

"I heard they picked a spot along the road to the north," said the mouse, trying to fill up the time with conversation.

"That's the way the army came from," said Swike before she could stop herself. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to talk about that."

"It's alright," said Maren. "That's part of why they chose it. It's a reminder to us, to keep an eye to the north, and to all other directions, so that we're never caught off-guard. But, it's also a warning to vermin, marching in from the north, not to wage war against us."

After a moment of silence, Swike said, "I hope they heed your warning. It's really more for them than for you. More lives are lost in attacking than defending."

The two beasts remained silent after that, leaning on each other, each with their own thoughts. Mouse and rat, yet true friends.

* * *

When the sky just began to change colors, signaling the approach of twilight and night, Redwall emptied. A silent and solemn procession marched north, each beast holding a candlestick. Only a few minutes passed before they gathered around the graves. The Abbess lit her candle, and from hers, the flame spread out until every candle had been lit. The deceased goodbeasts were then laid, one at a time, into their graves. A close friend or family member stood up by each grave and said a few words for the dead. It was made known how wonderful the beast had been and how valiantly they had fought or worked, up until the end. The tears flowed freely and even Swike found herself tearing up. She had known few of the dead, but the pain felt by those left behind became her pain as well.

Her candle had burnt down into a small lump by the time the last beast was laid to rest, covered with the earth, and sent on to the dark forest. When they all turned back toward Redwall, dibbuns in the arms of their elders fast asleep, it was pitch black. With only a few candles still lit, they found their way and it was a very silent night as they all went to their beds.


	46. Gathering

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-six: Gathering**

The next morning, Swike woke up late. No work was being done this morning, so she had been allowed to sleep in. But the atmosphere around Redwall was no longer what it had been the day before. With the dead finally laid to rest, an attitude of festivity was settling on the goodbeasts. Apparently, it was a tradition to celebrate the end of a war with a feast, and now that Redwall was nearly in its pre-war state, preparations for the feast were in full swing.

Just before lunch, Maren practically ran into Swike, she was so excited.

"We get to go out!" she exclaimed.

"Wh-what? Out where?"

"Into Mossflower! I was told that the infirmary is running low on a few herbs and the kitchens are running low on more. And there are some special things that will be needed for the feast. So we're going out!"

She took hold of Swike's paws and began to jump up and down with joy. "So I'm going too?" asked the rat.

"Are you slow today, or what? Yes! I did say _we_, didn't I? Right after lunch, a group of us are going out to gather herbs. Gyis and I got permission for you to come along."

Over lunch, Swike discovered that Char, Gyis, Bryce, and three other beasts would be going as well. They ate lunch quickly and then the eight of them left together.

"Do you have the list from Ronn?" Bryce asked Maren.

"Of course," said the mousemaid, pulling out a piece of folded paper and flashing it in Bryce's direction. "You have the list Cata sent with you, right?"

"Yes," replied Bryce, patting an inner pocket, just to be sure.

"Then we should be good," said Amber, the only other mouse in the group.

Swike looked around at her companions, rehearsing the names in her mind of the three beasts who she had just met. Amber, the mouse, worked on and off in the kitchens and the infirmary. She might have been a close friend, if not for the age gap. The oldest beast of the eight, she could have been Maren's mother.

Kris, a squirrel, worked closely with Bryce in the kitchens. Apparently, Bryce had been his apprentice a season or two back, but they had left behind the titles of teacher and student and taken on the relationship of friends. Kris, like Maren, seemed to have joined the group for the sole purpose of getting outside Redwall for a while, and he admitted that Bryce would have been fine on his own.

The last addition to their group was Ranton, Lanton's older brother. He had received some schooling from Ronn on medicinal herbs which had to be dug up, and he was in their group for that fact.

Swike felt at first that Gyis and Char's main purpose was to guard her, but she soon realized that they were valuable for the trip as well. Char was, by far, the best swimmer, and Gyis was a little more nimble than Kris, and a great addition to the group if they should want anything out of the treetops. They were also the only two warriors, besides Swike, in the group, and they were charged with the protection of its members, should danger arise. Hopefully nothing should go wrong. Log-a-Log himself had declared Mossflower Woods safe, for a half-days journey in any direction, but Swike had an odd feeling that the extra short sword at Char's side might end up in her own paw, should there be any trouble.

As they exited the eastern wall gate, Swike noted that Char fingered the long sword at his side and Gyis released her sling and deftly checked to make sure her bag of stones was easily accessible. _They seem prepared; that's good._

Kris sprang into the branches of the nearest tree, his movements speaking of the freedom which he felt. Maren twirled in a circle, letting her giggles bubble out in her delight. Amber laughed at the antics of the two youngsters. "Now, behave yourselves," she said, sounding as if she were scolding dibbuns. "This is serious business, I'll remind you."

"They'm cun 'ave sum fun, tho'," said Ranton, grinning.

"I guess you're right," said Amber.

"Come on, Swike!" said Maren happily, taking her by the paw and rushing out into the woods. She went spinning around trees, Swike in tow. Before long, the rat was also laughing as she fought off dizziness.

"Just make sure we all stay together! No straying!" cautioned Char. His words were heeded, and before long the eight of them arrived on the banks of a river. Lying aside his clothes and weapons, Char turned toward Maren and Bryce. "Alright, what do we need here?"

Each of them took out their papers.

"Are you familiar with watercress?" asked Bryce.

"Course I am," said Char with a grin. "Show me an otter who isn't."

"Ronn wrote bacopa down," said Maren. "You might find some in the river, if not growing along the river bank. Should smell like lemons and have white flowers."

"Thanks," said Char. "I'll keep an eye out for it."

Char disappeared under the water. Amber and Swike each asked to see the lists so that they could start gathering herbs too. Before long, they were lost in their search.

Kris and Gyis maintained a constant lookout from above and Bryce and Maren sat down to talk with Ranton about things he should look for, so that he would know where to dig later on.

After a while, her paws full of comfrey, Swike decided to make her way back to Maren, who had the baskets. As she passed behind Amber, she just happened to glance at what the mouse was examining. After a quick double-take, she nearly leapt out of her fur.

"Amber! Don't pick that! It's poisonous!"

"What?" said the mouse, jumping back. "Do you mean the angelica?"

Swike shook her head vigorously. "That's not angelica. It's cicuta. If you eat it, you'll start having convulsions. It can kill you within an hour. I know they look similar, but that's definitely cicuta."

Maren came running up to see what all the commotion was about. Once she was pointed toward the plant in question, she agreed with Swike. Amber, appearing rattled at her close mistake, began apologizing, but the young mouse and rat assured her that no harm had been done. The three of them left the cicuta alone.

It was a while before they had all gathered enough specimens along the river, but they must have hit the river in the right place. They had collected lots of watercress and comfrey, and a little bacopa and peppermint as well, so they felt it would be unnecessary to continue either upstream or downstream.

"Where to next?" asked Gyis, landing next to Maren. The mousemaid looked over the list in her paw.

"Most of the things on this list can't be found growing right by Redwall. We'll need to go further. I'm thinking we have to cross the river."

"Will that work, Bryce?" asked the squirrel.

"Umm, let me see." The mouse pulled out his own list, checking off the items they had already gathered. "You don't need to go too far out, for what we need in the kitchen, but it wouldn't hurt either. In fact, I think there are some nice elderberry trees across the river, so that will be good."

"Are we decided then?" asked Char, coming up out of the water.

"Oi doan't loike water," said Ranton, eyeing the river.

"I'm sure we could help you cross up above," said Kris, also landing next to the group.

"Oi doan't loike trees neither," said the mole, shifting slightly.

"They're not _that_ bad," said Swike encouragingly. "I'll go that way too. We share a dislike of water." She grinned at the mole who looked so like his younger brother.

"You'm 'elped Lantun," said the mole, appearing to like the idea more.

"Yeah, I did," agreed Swike. "So let's climb some trees."

Char ended up guiding Bryce and Amber to swim across the river, but all the other beasts opted to cross through the branches above with Gyis and Kris' help. While there were a few tense moments (including when Swike had to push Ranton from one tree to another with Gyis pulling from his other side and when Bryce disappeared under the flowing water and Char had to dive in after him) they all made it across in one piece.

"And now we march," said Maren, helping Amber to dry off.

"March where?" asked Kris, scaling the nearest tree.

"Those elderberry trees sounded nice," said Gyis. "Which direction, Bryce?"

The mouse appeared to puzzle over it a second, but then he pointed southeast. In a jolly mood, the group went on its way. When they finally reached the elderberry trees, they were over two hours away from Redwall and Char declared that it would be a good time to eat a light supper.

Kris and Bryce laid out a small feast which the mouse had been carrying with him. Sitting on the ground under a shady tree, they all shared out the bread, cheese, nuts, berries, and cordial. Before long, only a small amount of nuts and berries remained.

"We should save the rest for the trip back," said Kris.

As Bryce and Swike packed the extra food away, Kris and Gyis each swung a small bag over their shoulders and ran up into the elderberry trees to start picking the berries. Ranton got Char's attention and the two of them went off to where the mole had spotted some chives and meadowsweet.

In fact, flowers were blooming all around, and the group dispersed in all directions, Maren and Amber after a cluster of yellow foxglove and Swike and Bryce to a group of blue, star-shaped flowers known as borage. For the next hour, everybeast was busy gathering the many useful herbs in the area. Swike smiled to herself as she picked flowers and leaves. _I could live the rest of my life like this. So peaceful, so quiet. And I'm useful too. All that experimenting when I was young, and then those lessons from Raynat. I'm sure I could learn even more now, from Haley or Catalina._ The rat sighed happily.

Just then, she saw something glinting out of the corner of her eye. She turned toward it slowly, not wishing to attract the attention of her companions. Her stomach sank. Lying at the base of a nearby tree was a bracelet, and if Swike wasn't mistaken, it was one of Naysta's bracelets. The rat began to look around, as if she expected the vixen to be standing right there, but she could see nobeast save a few of her goodbeast comrades. Slowly, Swike made her way toward the tree, and once there, pushed aside some leaves until the bracelet was hidden from view. She didn't know why she did it. If she was hiding any evidence of the vermin, then was she still on their side? How could she say she was on the side of the Redwallers if she couldn't be honest with them? If Naysta was nearby, then it would be a good idea to leave, immediately if possible. Even if she no longer traveled with anybeast from the army, the last time Swike had seen her, the vixen had been raving about the serpent in Mossflower, which had not been seen since before the war.

Swike pressed her eyes shut, grappling with her thoughts. _If I tell them there are vermin nearby, then we'll leave. And … Log-a-Log will come out here and take care of the problem. I'm not saying that I care that much for Naysta, but I still don't want anything bad to happen to her. She might not even be here anymore. This could have been the spot she chose to settle in during the war, when she couldn't get any sleep. Yes, I bet that's it. She simply dropped a bracelet here during the war, but she couldn't possibly be here now. If there were any vermin nearby, we'd have had some problems a long time ago. I don't think I need to tell anybeast anything._

Swike sat back, satisfied with her decision. Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear her head. But the deep breath brought a scent to her nose which she hadn't noticed before. Instantly, her eyes snapped open and her head shot up. Maren, who had drifted in her direction, noticed the sudden movements.

"Swike, did you hear something?"

Swike stood up, quickly depositing a pawful of flowers into Maren's basket.

"I didn't hear anything," she said. "But I smell … is it? Yes, there's some valerian nearby."

"Valerian?" asked Maren, checking her list. "Ronn didn't ask for any valerian, and as far as I'm aware, that plant doesn't have any culinary uses."

"No, no," said Swike, batting Maren's comment away. "It's not on the list, but it's growing somewhere …" she had her snout in the air. A breeze was blowing through the woods where none had been before, carrying the scent of the sweet, pink and white flowers from somewhere further off.

"Is something the matter?" asked Char, coming up with Ranton. They were each covered in dirt and carrying a load of roots and leaves.

Just then, Amber and Bryce also came over, holding over-laden baskets. "Are we done for the day?" asked Amber. "Is that why we're gathering together?"

"No, I was just asking Swike-" began Maren, but Kris and Gyis each dropped out of the trees to join the group at that moment.

"You were saying?" asked Char of Maren, his eyes on Swike who had started to wander off in the direction of the valerian.

"Swike smelt some valerian," said Maren. "That's all. Nothing else happened."

"I don't remember seeing that on the list," said Amber, heading off after Swike in any case.

Bryce shrugged at Char. "Couldn't hurt," he said. "We've gathered a couple extra things anyway. Why don't we pick some of the valerian and then head back to Redwall?"

Swike was now trotting through the trees with more purpose. She had barely taken in any of the conversation. Her mind had latched onto the sweet scent wafting through the trees. She had only encountered the flower one other time, and it had had the same effect on her the last time. She couldn't explain it, but she had to find the flower; nothing else mattered.

When she heard the yells, it took a moment for her to stop running and take in what was going on. Rats, there were rats all around her. She spun around to see what was happening to her friends. A heavy net lay on top of Gyis, Amber, and Bryce. Maren had dropped her basket and turned to run, but she wasn't going to make it. Ranton and Char were each captured quicker than they could respond, laden as they were with baskets. One rat swiftly sat on Gyis, seeing that she was grabbing for the sling at her side. Kris dropped his bag of elderberries and ran up the side of a nearby tree.

"Catch 'im!" Swike heard a rat yell. "The squirrel! Catch 'im! Shoot 'im."

"Wait," yelled Swike. Everything was happening so fast. "Stop!" she screamed. "What are you doing?"

She turned in a circle, looking around at the rats, trying to find a familiar face. While none of them made a move to harm her, neither did they listen to her.

"Stop! Please don't harm them! Why are you doing this? Swifcut, where is Swifcut?!"

And as if he had only been waiting for her to ask, Swike's brother was at her side, smiling. "'Ello Sswik," he said.


	47. Sweet and Seductive

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-seven: Sweet and Seductive**

"Oh Swifcut," cried Swike, grabbing onto him. "Make them stop! Don't let them hurt Kris!"

"'Oo iz Kris?" asked Swifcut. "Da sscirll? 'Ut ve hav ta catch 'im."

"What?" asked Swike. "Why? You don't have to catch him. He's not hurting you."

"'Ut ee vil tell da Redalls 'bout uz." Turning from his sister, Swifcut addressed his followers. "Capure da sscirll! At any coss!"

"Noo!" But nobeast listened to Swike. There were already half a score of rats running after Kris, shooting arrows up into the treetops. Swike made her paws into fists, beating on her brother's chest, trying to get through to him, frustrated by her inability to control what was happening. In one swift movement, Swifcut grabbed Swike's wrists. He held her in a vice she could not escape. Tears ran down her face. "I don't un-understand," she whispered. "I was so h-happy to think y-you might be alive. But now, to se-ee that you would so easily hu-hurt my friends…"

"Dey are no' ur frenz. Sswik, yu are varmin, juz lik ne. Yu are no' a mouz. Sstop pretenin."

"Lord Swifcut!" An archer came running up to the two rats. Swifcut looked up, but he kept his hold on his little sister. "We captured th' squirrel. We shot 'im an' 'e fell out o' a tree. We 'ave 'im now." The rat motioned over his shoulder to two other rats that came into view, dragging the unconscious squirrel, two arrows protruding from one of his legs and another from his shoulder.

"Oh no!" Maren sobbed.

Swike's eyes fell on the other captives. In her great need to save Kris' life, she had all but forgotten that the other goodbeasts were watching as well. She felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart to see the looks on Amber's and Char's faces. They thought her a traitor; it was obvious. From their viewpoint, she had led them into a trap. Gyis might have given her the same look if she had been conscious. Unable to deal with the feisty squirrel, the rat sitting on her had knocked her over the head. Even from where she was standing, Swike could see the bump rising on the squirrel's skull. Swike didn't know yet what Maren or Ranton thought of her, for their eyes were on Kris as they struggled to make it to his side. Only Bryce cast a kind eye on Swike, and as she met his gaze, she felt that he was sad for her. He might have been the only beast to see what was really going on. To understand that Swike had had no intention of leading any of them into this whole mess but that she was now powerless to undo what was done.

Feeling utterly defeated, Swike sank to her knees. Swifcut let go of her paws and she huddled in a ball at his footpaws, the fight leaving her. His words rang in her head _yu are varmin … yu are no' a mouz … sstop pretenin_.

_Who was I kidding? All this time, acting like a goodbeast. Acting … I once thought I couldn't act, but it looks like I could. So good at it that I even fooled myself._

"Chain 'em up!" a rat yelled. Yet he sounded so far away. Swike closed her eyes. She couldn't believe any of this was happening. She couldn't believe that she had had any part to do with it. And she was so confused.

A whiff of valerian touched her snout. Involuntarily, she lifted her head, opened her eyes. Crouched in front of her was a familiar form, draped in a black cloak. In his paw, he idly swung a clump of pink flowers in front of Swike's face.

"Interesting flower, valerian," said Raynat. "For some reason, rats find it most enticing. They'll stop whatever they're doing and go in pursuit of it. I usually avoid the stuff myself. I like keeping my mind clear. But it has its uses."

Swike was vaguely aware of her friends being herded away. A few of them, probably Maren and Bryce, called out to her, but her eyes and her attention remained on the pink flowers in Raynat's paw.

"Of course," continued the assassin as if nothing were happening around them, "leave it to an army of rats to find the largest patch of valerian I've ever come across. I knew, I told Swifcut, that you would find it eventually too. All we had to do was wait. Sooner or later, even if the Redwallers had discovered who you really were, those soft goodbeasts would let you out, and you'd fall right into our arms."

Swike reached out a paw for the flowers and Raynat let them fall. Once Swike had them, she clutched the sweet-smelling plant to herself. She knew all of her actions, and yet she had so little control. It made her angry. She looked up into Raynat's face.

"Why?" she asked. "How? How are you not affected?"

Within the shadow of his hood, she saw the flash of white teeth as he smiled. He brought his left paw up to his snout, taking a deep breath as he did so. "Garlic," he said, "has such a strong smell. It is so useful for covering up other scents you don't wish to smell."

Swike looked down at his wrist and saw the same green wristband that had been used in the army. She didn't understand.

"Here," said Raynat, deftly tying a new green band on her left wrist. Swike brought it up to her snout and recognized the scent of garlic. "I took as much garlic as I could find and wrapped the wristbands around them. Then we crushed them all and let them sit and stink for a day. The scent hasn't worn off yet, which is very useful. The last thing we need is an army of rats who can't carry on a fight without stopping to smell the flowers between every swing of their swords."

Swike let the valerian tumble to the ground as she stared at her wrist. "If you weren't so determined to be from opposite sides of the world, I believe you and Chinley could have been friends," she said.

Raynat pulled a face at this comment. He stood up and dusted himself off. "Get up off the ground, Swike. You're a spy again, and you should make yourself presentable."

Swike felt the blood rushing into her face. "I will not," she said, rising to her feet and speaking each word louder than the last, "be a spy!"

"Really?" asked Raynat. "I don't think that's your decision to make."

"What? And just whose decision is it then?"

"Why, Lord Swifcut. I thought you could have figured that out on your own."

Swike glared at the back of Raynat's cloak as he turned and walked away. She wanted to yell and to argue. She wanted to scream that this wasn't happening, but she had to admit to herself, she had to look around herself, and see that it was.

_And what am I going to do about it? I'm not strong enough to fight them all. Nobeast is. I'm not fast enough to make it back to Redwall without being caught. And I'm not smart enough to outthink Raynat or any of the other rats that I'm sure my brother has found and promoted for their intellect and skills. Unless Swifcut grants me the wish of setting the goodbeasts free, as a favor for his sister, I'm out of options._

"Swike honey."

Swike spun on the spot, coming face-to-face with Naysta. She was looking much plumper than the last time Swike had seen her, though she hadn't yet regained her old health. She still sported beautiful red and yellow clothes, yet, to Swike's alarm, the fox wore no jewelry. Until she had spoken, Swike had not heard the vixen's approach.

"Naysta!" exclaimed Swike. "So you _are_ with the rats! How did that happen?"

"I have no use for losers," said the fox. "I had Seen that Koron's time was up. So I went to the second-in-command, your brother Swifcut, and I told him that I could See his triumph on the horizon. He took me into his army when the tides changed, and so here I am."

Swike gave her a puzzled look. "But, I thought Martin was blocking your Sight. During the war at least. How could you have Seen anything of the sort?"

"Oh, you silly child," said the seer sweetly. "My Sight has never been blocked. It is way too strong for that to ever happen. You must have had a dream." The vixen walked toward Swike as she spoke, swaying from side to side. "My Sight is clear now, as it has always been. I Saw your coming as well. I told Lord Swifcut that you would come to this very spot, if he only waited for you. No need to engage in warfare at all."

Swike took a step backwards. _No. She's lying to me. I was so certain that she was a true Seer. Actually, I still am. But her Sight is weak, very weak. She puts forth all this effort to convince everybeast that she's something she isn't. She mixes up a few true visions with a ton of show and trickery. I bet she didn't approach Swifcut until after the uprising occurred. I'm surprised that he kept her around. Though, I guess he was always the superstitious type. And_, Swike's eye darted to Naysta's bare arms once more, _she planted that bracelet! Sure, she told Swifcut I would come to this spot, and she littered her jewelry all around, to attract me here. A waste, since Raynat knew the valerian would be enough on its own. I guess that everything about her is a waste._

Swike pasted a fake smile across her face. "You're right," she told Naysta. "Your predictions have always been so good. I don't know what I was thinking before. I apologize."

Naysta smiled back at the rat. "You're welcome," she said.

* * *

Being called a spy by Raynat had decided Swike. She knew what she wanted, and more importantly, what she didn't want. She was aware of the circumstances and of how little chance she stood of getting her way, but she was no longer a puppet. Her spirit had been fired up, and nobeast, not even her brother, would be able to put it out.

Since nobeast had been assigned as her guard or escort and she was able to move around freely, Swike found the spot where her friends were being kept before nightfall. Each of them, even Kris and Gyis who remained unconscious, had chains around their wrists and ankles, and these chains were attached to pikes which had been driven into the ground.

A few guards stood up to bar her way when Swike tried to get near the prisoners, but she was ready for them. She took a pawful of valerian, the very same bunch which Raynat had danced in front of her face earlier, and swiped it across the snouts of the guards before tossing it over her shoulder. She knew it wouldn't hold them for long, but the rats paused just long enough for Swike to slink past them and straight into the midst of the goodbeasts.

Swike didn't hear the clank of chains until after she felt the kick. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out and her arms flailed out to grab onto the nearest pike to keep from falling over.

"Char!" she heard Bryce call in a hushed whisper. "What was that for?"

"She deserved it," the otter replied coldly.

"No, I didn't," Swike managed to gasp. "I didn't deserve that, not for anything I've done. Only, maybe, for what I am."

"And you're a vermin and a spy," said Amber, "which goes along with you doing many horrible things."

"I am not!" said Swike.

One of the guards came up behind Swike and took hold of her shoulders. "What d'you think yore doin'?" he asked gruffly.

"I," said Swike loudly, "am here on Lord Swifcut's orders. Do you want to go ask him to make sure?" She turned a fiery glare on the much bigger rat, who stepped back immediately. "I didn't think so," said Swike. "He doesn't treat with disobedience very kindly, I'd imagine."

Her assumption of the fear which her brother's name would bring had been correct. All of the guards retreated from the prisoners, leaving the short rat alone with them. They were far enough away that she could speak freely. Swike turned from the guards to hide her smile.

"What you'm be goin' ta do wiv us'm, hurr?" asked Ranton.

Swike frowned at the mole. "_I'm_ not going to do anything," she said softly. "At least, not anything that would cause you harm. If I can, I'm going to make sure you get away so that you can all return to Redwall."

"Why?" asked Char.

"Why?" repeated Swike. "Char, why would I _not_ try to help you? I thought you were getting to know me."

"I don't know you," said Char shortly.

"Sure you do," coaxed Bryce. "She's Swike. Which is the same thing as saying that she's Rosethorn. She hasn't changed."

Swike decided that she should change the subject, and she limped over to where Kris lay. "How's he doing?" She could see that the arrows had been removed and that somebeast had hastily bound his wounds. And from the large amounts of blood on Maren's clothing, Swike had an idea of who.

"He's breathing better now," whispered the mousemaid. She sounded as if she had been crying.

Swike's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry, all of you."

"You said," Maren looked up at her, "that you might have deserved that kick … for what you are. Swike, what are you?"

Swike sighed. "I'm a rat. You know, I've always been attracted to valerian, but I never knew why. It was explained to me today. Rats are drawn to it. When we smell it, our first thought is to go to it. You might have noticed how I first slipped past the guards a little while ago. But all of the rats here have a wristband," Swike showed them hers, "which smells of garlic, to counteract the smell of the valerian. If you thought this was a trap, you were right. But I'm the beast they wanted to ensnare. I'm sorry that you got dragged along."

Char sat up straighter. "I never knew valerian had that quality," he said. He eyed Swike suspiciously. "Why would you give away such valuable information? They're your own kind."

"No," said Swike, staring straight into Char's face. "They aren't. Not any more. I am a rat, and that can't be changed. But I am no vermin. I am a goodbeast."


	48. Choices

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-eight: Choices**

Swike's newfound resolution to help the goodbeasts and to be one herself was fine, in theory, but acting upon these feeling proved to be more difficult than she could have imagined.

At her first chance, Swike sought out an audience with her brother. In short, the results were less than satisfactory.

She found him next to a campfire and approached him, standing straight and with confidence. With no desire to dance around the topic, she started, "Swifcut, the Redwallers are useless to you. What could you possibly want with them? You should set them free. I know these goodbeasts well and they will not pursue you if you tell them that you mean their kind no harm and that you're leaving."

Swifcut did not look up at her at first, his attention upon his sword, which he was sharpening. Nonchalantly, he picked up a leaf off the ground and tested his blade upon the leaf's edge. The ghost of a grin passed over his face as the leaf split, each half fluttering to the ground, so thin that Swike could see the firelight through them even from a few paces away.

"Vill yu join ne?" Swifcut said evenly. "I need ta have yu wif ne. Togesser, ve can rule all." He had a hungry look in his eyes as he looked in Swike's direction. But Swike didn't feel like he was really looking at her. It was as if he could see something, off in the distance, which wasn't there.

"What?" Swike asked. "What are you talking about? I wanted to know if you would set the Redwallers free."

Swifcut's eyes focused, and he was really looking at Swike. "Vy?" he spat.

"I've, I've already told you why, Swifcut. You have no use for them. And if you set them free, you risk nothing. They shouldn't retaliate."

"Vill yu join ne?" Swifcut asked again, continuing to disregard Swike's plea.

The former spy could see that she was getting nowhere. If she wanted some answers, she'd have to give some first. "No," she said boldly. "I won't join you. Swifcut, I love you, I really do. But I don't want the life I would live if I went with you. I want to live in peace. I want to watch the seasons pass. Your life may hold some type of glory, but it's a glory I don't want, and it's both vicious and short-lived."

As she spoke, she watched her brother's face harden, but if anything, that made her want to live with the Redwallers even more.

"Yu lik da Redalls?" asked Swifcut.

"Yes," Swike said, relieved that he was finally starting to understand her.

"Den I vill no' le' dem go," he pronounced.

Swike nearly choked, she was so shocked. "Wh-what!?" she squealed. "Why not?"

"Ib dey sstay, yu sstay."

Swike got nothing more out of him as her brother began to order his rats to move. He wanted to be far from Redwall by the time the goodbeasts noticed the absence of their friends. They would march through the night if necessary, driving the weary prisoners onward.

What made Swike the angriest was that Swifcut had been right. As long as those seven prisoners remained with him, she would remain as well. She couldn't abandon them, not now. And so, as the sun set, Swike joined the marching rats willingly.

* * *

Sometime during the course of the march, while Swike trudged onward as if living inside a dream, inside a nightmare, she noticed a presence beside her. She turned to her right and looked up at the tall rat next to her. The moon had strayed behind a cloud, and the tree cover above surely didn't help the lighting. In the dark, the rat looked like any other.

But for some reason her heart had risen into her throat, where it became lodged.

He was looking at her. She could tell that much. Leaning in close, he whispered something which she didn't catch.

"Sorry," she whispered back, "I didn't hear that."

He cleared his throat, not in an "I'm about to talk" kind of way, but instead in an "I must have been mistaken" kind of way. He pulled away. Speaking a little louder, he asked, "Are you Swike?"

Swike gasped as she recognized his voice. "Riss!" she said. She barely stopped herself from leaping in his arms. Which was probably for the best; he stiffened at the sound of his name.

"What happened to your voice?" he asked.

"Oh," Swike quickly shifted into Rosethorn's/Tyn's voice. "I guess you only ever heard me talk with this voice. But it's not my own. I can change my voice as easily as my appearance."

"I didn't know that."

Using her true voice once again, Swike continued, "You weren't supposed to. Not even Koron knew that, at first." She stopped talking. Riss had moved closer to her, perfectly in step with her shorter stride. She felt one of his paws brush over the top of her head, the side of her face, and then rest on her shoulder. Her cheeks warmed in a blush and she held her breath. She became dizzy; her heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes," said Riss softly, letting his paw slip off her shoulder and stepping away. "You're the same height as Tyn. It's been in my mind, ever since that day when you went back into Redwall. So close in height, and the voices identical. But now I'm finally certain."

Swike could breathe again. She was saddened a bit to realize that Riss had only been checking how short she was, but her excitement at the touch would not be so easily exterminated. She began to walk as close to him as she could without actually touching him, hoping, in the back of her mind, that they might accidentally bump into each other.

"I understand now," said Riss quietly, "why you couldn't join the archer regimen. But it doesn't really matter anymore. Captain Tampoe was a weasel. He's dead now, and Lord Swifcut's army has different units than we had before. I'm sure you'll be right by his side the whole way."

Swike bit her lip. She really didn't want to talk about this, didn't want to think about this. She wanted Riss to know her true intentions though. If she cared about him as much as she thought she did, he deserved that much.

"I won't," she said.

"Won't what? Won't be by Swifcut's side? I don't think your brother would have it any other way. As long as you don't protest, I doubt anybeast else would."

"But I have protested. And I will again."

"What?" Riss turned his head quickly from side to side. Rats were marching all around them, but most of them appeared absorbed, either in the trail, or in whispered conversations with a neighbor, much like Swike and Riss. He ducked his head next to Swike's ear. "What are you thinking? You can't go against Swifcut. He won't have it. He's your brother; surely you of all beasts know what he's capable of."

He stood up a little taller. "And we all know what you're capable of too." Riss put his arm around Swike's shoulders and very gently placed a paw on the twisted flesh that was all that remained of Swike's left ear. "You don't know how much respect would be paid to you for this scar. Lord Koron gave it to you, I heard. Swifcut, also, has a scar like it. Did you not see the gash running down his left arm? He's received many injuries there. First Lucky's arrow, and later, Jaoto's sword. Well, Koron was next, swiftly carving a line from shoulder to wrist. But Swifcut could not be stopped. He fought on, with one arm, and he won. That's why we follow him; and we would follow you too."

Swike blinked, her head spinning. "But I … I couldn't do anything. When Koron cut off my ear, he could have killed me. He probably would have if Raynat hadn't stepped in and reasoned with him on my behalf. I'm, I'm not anybeast to be followed."

Still with an arm around Swike, Riss whispered, "I would follow you." He squeezed her slightly and then let go.

Swike felt as if a bright light had exploded behind her eyes. Momentarily, she was blind with it, the corners of her mouth curling into a grin. She began swaying slightly from side to side, as if she were drunk. Noticing her state, Riss took her by the elbow, helping her to stay upright.

"Are you alright, Swike?"

"Never better," she said softly, and meant it._ Riss said he would follow me. And he keeps touching me. Maybe he'll even hold me. I wonder what it would be like to stay with the vermin. To be, always, with Swifcut and Riss. I could make a good life. _Swike blinked, shaking her head. _No. Redwall. And my friends. How could I have forgotten? But … Riss._ She frowned. She was both angry and sad. _It's not fair! Don't make me choose! How wrong it would be if I had to choose! Why can't I have both? Yeah, why can't I have both? Riss said he would follow me. I don't think he meant away from the army, but he still said he'd follow me. Why not follow me back to Redwall? I'm sure they could trust Riss with time, just like they're coming to trust me._

Riss let go of Swike, who was walking straight and true once more. Swike took a deep breath. "I can't stay," she said, looking up into Riss' dark face. _I wish the moon would come back out._ "Those goodbeasts, the prisoners, they are my friends. I have to get them back home. And … Redwall is my home now too." Swike paused, getting up the courage to ask what was on her mind. "Will you, I mean… Riss, can you help me? Would you join me?"

The tall rat was silent. Even in the darkness, Swike could feel his eyes on her. She only wished she knew what was going on behind those eyes. She wished she could see into his mind, into his heart. The seconds stretched and Swike's heart pounded against her eardrums. It was too much to take, the waiting.

"What is Redwall like?" Riss asked.

Swike let out her breath in a rush. "Oh," she said brightly, "well it's wonderful. They have orchards and gardens and a pond. And there's a bell tower and a gatehouse and-" Riss placed a paw over her mouth, silencing her.

"Not so loud," he breathed.

Swike felt foolish. In her excitement, she had allowed her voice to rise in volume and had nearly attracted unwanted attention. The two of them walked in silence for a few minutes, Swike following after Riss, who was maneuvering his way through the rats to find a new spot within the march, away from any ears that might have become suspicious to their conversation. As they settled into the pace again, Swike waited for Riss to talk.

"I never said I would go," said the rat, "but I wouldn't mind hearing what it's like."

Swike's shoulders slumped. _Why wouldn't he go? Redwall really is a wondrous place. I guess I'll just have to sell it to him. I'll have to make him realize that there is no better place in the whole world._

"Everybeast is kind and hardworking," she whispered. "They have a peaceful way of life. It's full of color and happiness. They enjoy singing and dancing. And the food is like none other. If you eat one meal in the Great Hall, you'll never forget it. There is room and work enough for anybeast.

"And best of all, they are friendly. Maren, the young mousemaid among the prisoners, has become my best friend. Goodbeasts understand friendship so much better than vermin do. I could never imagine Maren turning on me or lying to me or doing anything that she believes might cause me harm. I'm sure you would find a friend like her and many more. They have some fine archers too. You could probably learn a thing or two from a few of them, and teach a lot more to many others." Swike looked up at Riss. The moon had finally peeked out from behind the clouds and she could see a look of concentration on Riss' face. "Would you consider it?" she asked timidly.

"I can see," Riss started, "that you have fallen in love with Redwall. I can't say that I have. All I ever saw were the walls, lined with armed goodbeasts who shot down many a comrade of mine. I saw the ground littered with the dead and our quivers empty on a regular basis. But I don't blame them for killing us. They had no other choice. If I blame anybeast, it's Koron. But Redwall isn't a place I fancy returning to.

"Still," he looked down into Swike's face, "if you would return there, I wouldn't stop you. I'll do what I can, to help you set the prisoners free. But I'm not sure what will be left for me, once they are. If I'm caught, Swifcut will have me killed. Whether or not I'm caught, I don't think I'll be able to stay. When you leave, I probably will too, off to find my own fortune, whatever it is." He closed his paw around Swike's. "But maybe, I won't search after my fortune alone."


	49. Diplomacy

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Forty-nine: Diplomacy**

As the sun climbed into the sky before their faces, the rats halted their march. Swike was asleep even before she hit the ground. When she came to some hours later, Riss was sitting right next to her, feeling the heat of their fire. As she sat up, he quickly poured her a glass of water. She accepted it with a quiet 'thank you,' getting her first good look at him in the light of day.

"Three days," he said.

"Three days, what?" asked Swike.

"Lord Swifcut ordered the main army to march east for three days and then stop. Now that he has what he was waiting for," Riss motioned in Swike's direction, "we'll join up with the main army in three days."

Swike looked around at the makeshift camp. Except for a few beasts who were on guard duty or who were eating a little food, all she could see were slumbering rats. But only now did she realize how few rats there actually were.

"So few," she said. "This is nothing to what the army was."

Riss laughed sharply. "_Any_ number would be nothing, to what the army was. But this isn't everybeast who will now follow after Lord Swifcut. The number of rats who neither died in the war or uprising nor deserted afterwards was fifteen hundred. The number of rats who stayed in Mossflower with Lord Swifcut, who professed that they would not be parted from him, even if it meant staying so close to Redwall, was three score.

"Swike, if you really want to set those prisoners free, you have three days, maybe less now. Three score can be tricked; three score can be evaded. But against fifteen hundred, you will surely fail."

Swike gulped, looking around at the small camp of rats. _Sixty,_ she thought, _even against sixty, I'm almost certain to fail. And three days is something I shouldn't think about. It's got to happen much quicker than that. Each day will bring us closer to the main army and take us further from Redwall._

She turned to the tall rat lounging at her side, helplessly admiring his handsome face for a moment. "So," she said, "do you have a plan?"

He grinned. "I don't know, Swike. I can tell you what you're up against, but how to get past the opposition is something we'll need at least two heads to figure out."

"Yeah," said Swike, blushing slightly. "At least two…" She let her mind drift. She told herself she was trying to construct a plan, but in actuality, her mind was so absorbed with ordering a plan to form that there was no room for any other thoughts. "At least two…" she repeated, barely thinking of the words she spoke. _At least two_, the words echoed through her empty mind. _But more than two would be better._ Her eyes became wide. "I could speak with them again!" she exclaimed. "I could go speak with the Redwallers! If I told them what you just told me, then we could use their brainpower too. Between all of us, surely we'll come up with something."

"Swike, I don't know that you should-" but Swike wasn't listening to him. She had already jumped up, twisting around to figure out where the prisoners were being kept. Near the center of the camp, she spotted a few pikes, sticking out of the ground.

"Found them!" she declared happily. She began marching in their direction, waving back at Riss.

She didn't make it three paces. Riss ran up behind her, grabbed her up in his arms, and literally swept her off the ground. "No," he said firmly into her ear. "I won't watch you barging off like that with no plan. I'm not sure how you were able to talk with them the first time, but it won't happen again so easily." Slowly, he set her back down and turned her till she faced him. "Now, sit down, and we'll talk about this."

Swike sat, the slightest smirk showing through from the corner of her mouth. "Ok," she said, "a plan." Her thoughts went back to the beginning of the war, when the Redwallers held their war meeting and discussed how they were going to defend the abbey. Back then, Swike had been able to offer little help besides stating the facts: they would not survive a second assault like the first – they had to do something about the crows. In the end, her statement led to thoughts of nets, and Redwall had had a plan.

"Pikes," she said. "We'll have to either pull them up or break them, unless we can attack the chains at their source. But for that, we'd need a key. Then there's the problem of the army itself. It looks like the Redwallers are begin kept in the center of the camp. That's a lot of rats to get past, and then still a long journey through the woods. As for the Redwallers themselves, I doubt they'll be at full strength when we try and escape. Both of the squirrels, who might have been our greatest asset among all these trees, are wounded. Char, the otter, is a warrior, as is Gyis, one of the squirrels, but the rest are not. We couldn't expect them to fight. Then, they're probably all hungry as well."

Riss sighed. "I see." He rubbed his paws over his eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked weakly.

Swike was gazing off at the pikes which she could barely see from where she was sitting. "Maren," she whispered.

"Alright," gave in Riss. "I already knew the answer to that question." He sat deep in thought for a few moments. "A key would be nice," he said evenly. "But Swifcut would have that." He shot a worried look at Swike. "And you're the only beast who may be able to get close enough to take it. Can you … can you trick your brother?"

Swike smiled. "I've done it before," she said, memories returning of the ghost disguise that she had once frightened her brothers with. She rubbed her paws together. "And I'll do it again."

* * *

Swike sat at Swifcut's left side. A pretty little rat, nearly as short as Swike herself, was serving them each lunch. Swike made a face as the rat had the nerve to feel up Swifcut's arm, sauntering past his side, but the warlord paid her no attention. Swike had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing as the little rat stormed off, making a face that could have knocked somebeast over.

"Dank yu, Sswik," said Swifcut as he poured them each a glass of wine, "fur seein' reesun. Ve vill be uhsstop'ble."

Swike grabbed up her wine and drank a little, giving herself time to form the right words. "Yes, I don't know what I was thinking yesterday. Might have been the valerian; plus I spent way too much time around those goodbeasts. But I'm much better now. Of course, you know I wasn't very happy when I spied for Koron, but it's entirely different if I'm spying for you. You're my brother. I know you love me and would wish to see no harm come to me." She stopped talking, biting the side of her cheek as she waited to hear some response from her brother. _I went too far! I'm laying it on too thick! I should have known I'd mess this up. I know I can't lie!_

Swifcut reached over, took Swike's paw – _Riss held my paw earlier! _– and squeezed it. "Hi'm glad yu dink sso. I vant ta be togesser wif yu. I have alwass vant dat. Dat iz vy I fullowed yu, vent dad sold yu." He grinned at her, but Swike noticed for the first time that his mouth struggled to form the smile, though his cut lip had long been healed. "Eat now, Sswik," he said earnestly. "And I vill do vatesser I can fur yu."

Swike grinned back, returning Swifcut's squeeze before letting go of his paw and turning to her food. The vittles paled in comparison to a meal at Redwall, but Swike kept such comments to herself. A while later, the rat who had served them returned, bearing a tray of fruits for dessert and carrying away the empty plates as she left. Swike noticed the short rat batting her eyelashes at Swifcut a little as she set down the fruit, but again he paid her no heed. Swike began to chuckle and did her best to disguise it as a cough. Swifcut was picking out an apple and didn't even take notice of the chuckle-cough, but the serving rat gave Swike a glare before she left once more.

As Swifcut bit into his apple, Swike turned over the fates of her friends in her mind. She wasn't sure how she could best broach the topic, but she didn't know how long she could leave it alone either.

"Swifcut…"

He looked up and met her eyes. He was listening.

"What will become of the Redwa-, I mean the prisoners, now?" Pause. "I'm just curious."

Swifcut chewed and swallowed, dropped his half-eaten apple back onto the fruit tray. "Da prissners are no' uzeful. Yu tol' ne dat yesserday." He shrugged. "Ve can kill dem."

Swike had feared he would say this, but she still hadn't been prepared for it. She closed her eyes and fought against the lump that had risen in her throat. She could have made fists, except she knew Swifcut was still watching her, so she fought the impulse. "You … don't have to do that," she said, trying not to sound too eager.

"Vy no'?"

Swike opened her eyes; the first thing they fell on was the fruit tray. "You know," she said quickly, a plan finally forming in her mind. "There's one thing I never had in Koron's army that I always wanted. Servants! I mean, there was always somebeast who brought me my meals, but beyond that, I had nothing. It gets old, gathering all the herbs that I need and preparing all of my own concoctions. But I wouldn't want to bother you or your warriors to help me. You have better things for them to do. But these Redwallers, you wouldn't believe how they treated me! After they found out that I was a rat, they had me pulling up weeds and planting grass and carrying water. All like some common slave! I want to get them back, for what they did to me! If you made those prisoners my slaves, it would be what they deserved!"

Swifcut's eyes lit up at the passion in Swike's voice. "Dat iz an idea," he mused. "Yu von't need all o' dem, o' corsse."

_Maren and Bryce!_ the thought leapt into her mind. _I must at least save them!_

"I might vant a ssparin' parner who I von't mind killin' in nock combat. Vat do yu dink?"

Swike swallowed. _If I go against him, Swifcut will find me out here and now. If I lie about his worthy opponent, I condemn that beast to death. So I must tell him the truth. _"The otter. He is the only beast who might hold his own against you in combat. I believe he is talented with sword, knife, and pike."

"Gud," Swifcut smiled, "Hi'm ressless, Sswik. Do yu vant to vatch uz fight?"

"N-now?"

"Yez."

"I, well, sure." Swike felt her heart sink. _Please Char,_ she thought, _don't die!_

* * *

Besides those beasts who were on patrol or scouting around the camp, all of the rats came together to watch their warlord make sport with one of the prisoners. Char was unchained and a short sword thrust in his paws. He clutched at the weapon, but his wrists were sore and his paws almost numb. Amber and Maren called out in alarm and reached out toward their friend, but they were each beaten back by the guards.

Swike stood at Swifcut's side, opposite the prisoners. Bryce was the first to notice her and when he had whispered to his comrades, she noticed all of their eyes turn toward her as one. With a sigh of relief, she found both Gyis and Kris to be conscious, though neither of them looked in great shape.

As the rats near Char cleared away, he stood still, shoulders hunched as he gripped his sword violently. The strain of bowstrings must have reached his ears, for he quickly took notice of three arrows trained on his position. From the look on his face, he had no idea what was going on.

Feeling as if she had made a horrible mistake, Swike lifted her paw toward her brother's elbow. She moved slowly, as if pushing against the flow of a running river, but she finally made contact with him.

"Good luck," she whispered, dutifully, in Swifcut's ear.


	50. Crushing Defeat

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Fifty: Crushing Defeat**

The sun beat down on an interesting spectacle. At least two score rats and half a dozen goodbeasts sat or stood in a circle, eyes on the two beasts within. Each held a short sword, but there was no doubt that they were not evenly matched.

Swifcut was both well-fed and well-rested, and nobeast believed the sword in his paw to be his only weapon. But Char was not ready for a fight. He was stiff and cramped, and he had had little sleep and no food or drink since his capture.

From where Swike stood, across the circle from the prisoners, she felt stranded and totally alone. Swifcut had already moved away from her, stretching out his left arm and walking along the curve of the circle. Char's eyes latched onto the warlord and he began to edge his way along the circle as well, maintaining a fair distance from Swifcut, even though that meant putting rats at his back. The crowd was already in an uproar, hoping for a fierce fight.

Swike tried to swallow, but she couldn't get the lump in her throat to go down. Swifcut had stopped moving, a twisted grin dancing on his face. He tossed his blade playfully from one paw to the other and back again several times. Char took one step forward, but he didn't look particularly eager to make the first advance. Yet, his shoulders appeared to have loosened, and seeing this gave Swike courage. She pushed the lump in her throat down and began to pray for an end to this battle without death. _I will not close my eyes. No matter what happens. I will not close my eyes._

And it began.

Swifcut started to walk, then jog, and then sprint across the gap, sword held levelly at throat height. Char was running too. At first, he was heading straight toward the rat, but at the last moment, he took a huge step out to the side and the beasts' momentum carried them past each other. In fact, they passed a bit quicker than the otter had anticipated, for he swung out his sword as if to slash the rat, only to swipe the empty air, blade singing.

They each slid to a halt and spun around to keep their opponent in sight. Swifcut adjusted his grip on his sword and began to approach Char once more, this time moving no faster than a brisk walk. Char never stood still, moving both backwards and sideways toward the place where Swike stood.

Before long, the otter was standing directly in front of Swike, uncomfortably close. He began shifting his weight nervously from one paw to the other, but he was no longer moving around, and Swifcut was closing the gap. The swords clashed together; Swike flinched but did not close her eyes or move away. Swifcut tried to bring the otter down under his superior strength, but Char was just a little taller, and perhaps not as weak as the rat had thought. Yells rose in each of their throats as they put muscle behind their blades. For a split second, Swifcut looked past Char, meeting Swike's eye. He sprang backwards, causing the otter to stumble, but Char quickly regained his footing and held his position.

_Swifcut doesn't want to hurt me, accidentally. That's why Char came over to stand in front of me; that's what he was hoping for. _Swike's forehead creased. _But what about Char? Does he not care if I'm hurt?_

Swifcut took out a knife and threw it straight at Char. The otter flashed his sword up in front of him. The knife hit with a cling and shot off to the side. Char hadn't even tried to dodge.

Swike let out her breath in a rush. _It seems Char _does_ care about me. If he had dodged that knife, then I… _Swike cast a worried look at her brother. _Swifcut would never…_

"Yu are no' vurry gud ssport," said the warlord, "ven yu sstay in one sspot. Ssordz out!" he shouted, glancing around at his rats. With a good-natured cheer, the hoard drew out their weapons. The rat standing to Swike's left swung out at Char, nicking the otter's arm. Char yelled, but he was moving now. He rolled out toward the center of the circle, escaping the blades at his back that were now hungry for his blood.

As soon as he came out of his roll, he had Swifcut to contend with. He warded off each of Swifcut's blows, but he appeared too weary to fight back. With each thrust and parry, the warlord tried to push his opponent back into the circle of waiting iron. Char fought with everything he had, his focus half on the sword dancing in Swifcut's paw and half on his distance away from the jeering crowd. Swike felt her stomach plummet as she watched him, fearful that he would make a mistake.

In order to avoid the rats behind him, Char was forced to roll once more. Swifcut's sword reached out toward the otter and sliced into his momentarily exposed back. Char came out of his roll running, his face screwed up against the pain as blood ran down his back and legs. He spun around to face Swifcut, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. Still, he took a long stance, holding his sword out in his right paw and pushing his left arm back for balance.

_He still has his form,_ thought Swike desperately, _He hasn't become sloppy! Come on, Char. Fight!_

Swifcut rushed the otter, pushing him one step back. But Char was ready this time. In one sweeping motion, the otter swung his blade downward and then brought it back up in a figure eight pattern; he forced the rat to take two steps back and nearly sent Swifcut's sword flying from his paw. Then Char brought his own blade back in to slash at Swifcut's open left side. He cut deep into the warlords left elbow, twisted his sword while it was still embedded in the rat's flesh, and jerked upward.

Swifcut yelled in pain and fury, driving his own sword down on the otter's head. Char thrust his left arm up to block, scoring a deep gash across his forearm. He tore his blade free from just below Swifcut's shoulder and skipped backwards. The warlord's left arm hung limp at his side, streaming blood. Char's left arm and back bled profusely, though he still maintained his mobility.

Swifcut looked down at his useless left arm, then, with a shout of anger, he plunged his sword into the dirt. In quick succession, he hurled three knives at the otter – Char dodged one. One blade sank into his right shoulder, and as the momentum of impact sent him reeling backwards, the next knife buried itself in his left side. Char began to stumble feebly, holding the blade protruding from his side, the bloody tip of his sword dragging through the dirt. The warlord jerked his sword free of the ground and began to bear down upon the otter.

Panic enveloped Swike. She could see Char's death only a moment away. Without thinking, tears streaming down her face, she sprinted out toward the battling beasts. Coming to a halt in front of the severely wounded otter, she spread her arms wide. "Stop!" she screamed at her brother. "Stop! If you do anything more, you'll kill him. Swifcut, please don't."

"Vat iz dis?" spat Swifcut.

Swike didn't answer. She didn't really have an answer.

"Iz dis vat yu vant?" asked Swifcut, motioning first toward Char and then toward the other prisoners. "Yu vant gudbeatz?"

Swike took a deep breath. She didn't feel she could pretend any longer. She had spent so long, lying to everybeast about who and what she was. She had no more desire to deceive anybeast, not even these vermin. She knew how important it had been to establish a good relationship with her brother in order to gain access to a key to set the prisoners free. Now, though, she saw that the price of such a key would be Char's life, and she was no longer interested.

"Yes," she said daringly. "I want to be with the goodbeasts." She paused for a moment, her heart thumping against her eardrums. "I want to _be_ a goodbeast."

A gasp of astonishment sounded from the rats and even Swifcut took a step back in alarm. It was obvious that he hadn't been expecting this and was quite taken aback. It took the warlord a moment to recover, but when he did, he was smiling. The smile unnerved Swike and a fear was born in her where none had ever been before. _Swifcut's going to do something horrible. And I'm no longer under his protection._

"A gudbeasst?" asked the rat mockingly. "'Ut yu sstill lik varmin." He laughed.

"I-I do not!" countered Swike, unsure of where her brother was going with this.

"Do yu no' luv ne?"

"I-," the tears were stinging her eyes. Swike's shoulders slumped and her arms fell to her sides. "Of course I do," she cried.

"And more den ne," said Swifcut, his grin growing even wider.

Swike's heart was pounding. _Oh no!_ Swifcut turned toward the crowd, motioning for something to be brought to him. _Oh no! Oh no, please don't! This isn't happening!!!_ Swike was terrified as she considered what Swifcut might have meant by his last comment.

The warlord rounded back on Swike and Char. "Take 'im 'way," he ordered, pointing at the otter. Three rats converged on Char. Swike spun around, ready to run to her friend's aid, but he didn't need her. Char dropped his sword into the dust, putting up no fight as the rats dragged him back toward the prisoners and chained him up. Swike caught a glimpse of Maren held tight in Bryce's arms before she turned back toward her brother.

The sight that met her eyes literally crushed her. She felt as if she had crumpled into a useless pile of bones and fur, yet somehow her weakened legs continued to support her weight. She swayed a little as her mouth opened in a scream that would never be heard, for she oddly lacked the ability to make a sound. Held tight by two other rats, his body riddled with cuts and bruises, was Riss.

"Ssee," called Swifcut. "Ve have yore frend. Yu sstill lik varmin, Sswik. Yu have been talkin' wif dis rat. Vy? Vas ee goin' ta 'elp yu?" Swifcut's eyes narrowed. "Do yu lik 'im more dan ne?" The accusation cut Swike like a knife. She was torn apart.

_No,_ she thought. _No, no, no, no._ The word repeated itself over and over again in her numb mind. She took a staggering step forward, and then another.

"Ansser!" ordered Swifcut. "Do yu lik 'im more dan ne!?"

Swike said nothing, taking another step toward Riss. The archer had been staring wide-eyed at Swike, but now he closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face.

"Yu do! Don' yu?" Swifcut had become hysterical, angered further by Swike's silence and slow approach. He made a jabbing motion with his right paw and two rats ran swiftly to Swike's side, taking hold of her arms. She tugged at them, feeling strength flood through her veins once more.

"No," she said, pulling harder. She began to fight – kicking, scratching, biting. Two more rats bore down on her.

"Kill 'im!" yelled Swifcut.

Riss began to fight too, but a swift punch to the gut was more than he could take in his condition. A rat with a drawn rapier approached him.

"NO!" Swike screamed. She fought with everything she had; she was nearly more than the four rats could handle. "Riss! RISS!!" She broke away only to fall to the ground. Three of the rats pressed their weight down upon her, pinning her to the spot. "No!!" she yelled, reaching out toward the only friend she had ever had among vermin.

"Swike," he said, "I-"

The rapier slashed Riss across the chest. He gasped. With a second swipe, the rapier cut into Riss' throat. His body jerked, once, and then became still. The rats who had been holding him now dropped Riss' body into a pool of his own blood.

"Riss!" Swike cried, still fighting feebly. But she knew it was over. With a wordless cry, she became still. She had been defeated.


	51. Soul in Darkness

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Fifty-one: Soul in Darkness**

All color had been sucked from the world. All sound had become muffled and dead. Swike lay on her side, unmoving from the position she had landed in when the rats who shackled her dumped her on the ground. Maren had tried to comfort her already, but with no result. Swike simply continued to stare blankly at the grass, sprouting from the ground in sharp angles, each blade vying for its right to live in this world.

Swike couldn't understand it. _Why? Why me? Why now? Swifcut … he … how? Riss._ The thoughts were too painful. Swike closed her eyes, cutting everything out. It was so much easier to think of nothing. She was numb; she was empty. She couldn't imagine life offering her anything to feel good about ever again. Better to be empty, to be nothing, than to be pain.

A shout sounded overhead, but it meant nothing to her. Rough paws pulled her up; her limp body might have fallen again if not for a few sturdy paws which grabbed and held her.

"Please Swike. Walk." The voice came from far away, but Swike walked. It was like moving through a dream, her eyes a slit through which pale light and muted colors could squeeze. The chains hanging from her paws were nothing compared to the ones dragging on her heart, and when the shackles around her footpaws caught on roots and tripped her up, she barely noticed.

She didn't know how long she walked. It might have been one hour and it might have been twenty. With every step, she had no strength to continue and yet no reason to stop; and she trudged on. When ordered to halt, she just kept going. A tug on the chains pulled her back, and she fell on her bottom. She blinked a moment, startled, but she wasn't ready to know anything yet. With a groan, she closed her eyes and automatically lay back on the dirt, not even bothering to shift around into a comfortable position.

Sleep came easily, but there was no escape from her reality.

* * *

"Do you think we should make a house?" asked Riss, smiling down at Swike. "You could make the bottom half and I'll make sure we have a roof." He patted her head, causing her to shrink even further.

"Oh stop," said Swike with a laugh, grabbing Riss' paw. "Just because I'm short doesn't mean that I can't make a roof! I've climbed trees before. I bet you haven't."

"Oh, but I have," replied the tall rat. "Comes with being an archer. I get arrows stuck up in trees all the time."

Swike frowned. "Alright, I won't make the roof then. You've got me beat."

"Of course." Riss began laughing. "Nobeast can beat me!"

Swike's heart began to ache. She reached out for Riss' paw, but he slipped out of her grasp every time she touched him. "No," she said. "_He_ can beat you!"

Riss became white with terror. Neither of them had moved, but Swike was unable to reach the rat archer, no matter how hard she tried. "Who?" asked Riss in a frightened whisper.

"Koron!" yelled Swike! "Stay away from Koron!"

Even as she spoke, Swike glimpsed the notorious ferret himself stepping up behind Riss. Lord Koron took out his sword and swiftly beheaded the rat in front of him. Swike had had no time to react. With a smile on his face, the ferret knelt down over the dead archer's body. It was as if he found the corpse intensely interesting. And he laughed. The laughter became raspy and horribly familiar. Koron looked up at Swike, but he no longer wore his own face. It was Swifcut, now, who gazed up at her.

Extending his paw, Swifcut said, "Join ne, Sswik."

* * *

Swike awoke in a cold sweat. Her body ached and her mind was in torment. Whimpering, she rolled over onto her side and curled up in a tight ball. For a time, she knew nothing but the breath which passed in and out of her nostrils. But then she felt something new.

A body leaned up against hers and somebeast hugged her from behind. A paw rubbed up and down her arm, warming her up. Only then did she notice how ice cold she had become, lying on the dirt in the open, in the middle of the night. Without the slightest desire to see who was behind her, Swike pressed her body backwards toward the waiting warmth and comfort. She relaxed and fell asleep for the second time. She did not dream.

* * *

A hard object was pressed into Swike's side. The rat gasped and shrank away. She put her arms up to protect herself and blinked at the creature leaning over her.

"So, 'ow does i' feel ta be a gudbeast?" asked the rat, his breath smelling strongly of liquor. Swike wanted to retch, but she held in the urge. The drunk rat began to laugh, moving to jab the hilt of his scimitar into Swike's side once again.

A shackled paw quickly pushed the offending object away. "Leave her alone!"

Blinking, the dumb rat tried to focus on the goodbeast who had interrupted his fun. "H-hey," he complained, after a moment's pause. "'Ou can' do that!"

The sound of clinking chains met Swike's ear, and she turned to see who was taking such a risk, on her behalf. In the early morning light, it took her a while to recognize the slight figure of Bryce, standing just behind her. In the depths of her soul, Swike's heart beat.

Her body was sore. Everything from the top of her head down to the tips of her footpaws throbbed in pain. But she didn't care. She pulled herself up until she could stand at Bryce's side, and slightly in front of him. Again, the scene of Riss' death played itself out in her head. She could not bear to see such as that ever again.

"W-what?" asked the still-crouching rat. "Two of 'em?" He was squinting in confusion. He set down his scimitar, picked it up, set it down, and picked it up again. As Swike came fully awake, she realized he was debating whether or not he would be able to stand, using the aid of only one paw, yet he was hesitant to lay his weapon down. Not wishing for any type of confrontation, Swike took hold of Bryce's paw and began to back up slowly. A few steps brought them to the rest of their group, most of whom lay asleep.

"Now sit," Swike whispered. They each sat down, eyes locked on the drunk rat. He appeared to have decided his scimitar could be best used as a crutch and was now struggling to stand. Once on his footpaws, he looked around in a daze, appeared to notice something off in the distance, and shuffled away.

Bryce sighed in relief. "Thanks Swike. That was some fast thinking. You may have saved my life." The mouse squeezed Swike's paw, still held in his grasp.

Swike pulled her paw free and turned her back on Bryce, wrapping her arms around her legs and grabbing her elbows. "Don't ever do that again," she said coldly. "If you stand up for me, you'll only die sooner."

"Don't worry about me," said Bryce. "You're worth it." He placed his paw on Swike's shoulder.

The rat spun around, her eyes ablaze with anger. "Being my friend will bring you nothing but death," she spat. "So don't!" Roughly, she shook him off and turned away once more. She pressed her eyes shut and bit her tongue, but still the tears fell. She buried her face in her knees and held her body rigidly, fighting the tears until her eyes dried up.

* * *

Hours later, Swike still sat as Bryce had left her. The other slaves were stirring, excited about the moldy bread and mushrooms they had just received – the only food they had been given since being captured. The rat decided that she had to move, that she literally could not stay in the same position any longer. Slowly, feeling her weak muscles quake and protest, she loosed her grip on her elbows and allowed her knees to fall to the sides. Gently, she placed her paws on the ground and stretched out her legs and back, her head rolling to either side to work out the knots in her stiff neck. She lay back on the ground and stretched out all of her limbs, thinking only of the pain.

She hadn't really considered the state of her body yet, and for a moment, she was confused. But the memories, unbidden, returned to her. In her effort to reach and save Riss, she had fought with everything she had. Though ordered not to harm her, the four rats who had worked to keep her away from Riss had done their job. In the end, the injuries they had not inflicted on her, she incurred through her own struggles. Currently, her body was riddled with bruises, far from healed.

"Here."

Swike found Maren's face gazing into her own.

"You need to eat."

Mutely, Swike took the stale bread out of Maren's paw. Sitting up to eat, she noticed Gyis to her right. The squirrel held out a misshapen mug. Swike took it; there was a small amount of muddy water in the bottom. After taking a few gulps, Swike passed the mug back and began to eat her portion of bread.

The rat surveyed the other goodbeasts for the first time since she had become one of them. Gyis still had a slight bump on her head, but she appeared to be in good shape. Kris was a little pale, as if still in pain and recovering from blood loss, but he was able to move around on his own. Amber and Ranton, like Maren and Bryce, appeared unharmed, besides being hungry and tired. But one look at Char made Swike sick to her stomach.

The otter was a mass of bandages. In fact, none of the goodbeasts still wore a shred of unnecessary clothing. The otter's left arm hung in a sling; his back was one huge swatch of bloody cloth; a hole had been closed up on his left side; and blood still ran slowly down his right arm from the cut in his shoulder. Swike couldn't imagine a single comfortable position for the otter, on his back, stomach, or either side. Ranton let Char lean against him, to keep him off the ground, and Amber fed him. They each administered to their friend in such a kindly manner that it touched Swike's heart. As if sensing her gaze, Amber turned to look at the rat. Her eyes no longer held any sort of accusation or anger, but only pity.

The pity stung, and Swike let her head drop. Without a word, she ate her bread.


	52. Hope Rekindled

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Fifty-two: Hope Rekindled**

The prisoners braced themselves for another long trek, but they soon came to realize that no order to move would come. The rats had drunk heavily in celebration of their Lord's supremacy over Char, and were unfit to march. Swifcut slept soundly under the vigilant watch of Raynat and the constant care of Naysta. Everybeast else was left to themselves and most of the rats either played drinking games or slept.

Few eyes were turned in the direction of the Redwallers, and for the first time, they were able to hold whispered conversations undeterred. Their conversation was centered upon escape.

At first, Swike paid little attention to the whispering around her and allowed her mind to drift. But even as hard as she tried to block everything out, she was brought back to reality when somebeast grabbed her left paw and held it up to their snout.

Swike's eyes came to focus on Gyis. After sniffing Swike's wrist, the squirrel let go and returned to Maren and Amber. Swike blinked and glanced down at the sliver of green cloth, still tied around her wrist. Though she had not heard any of the Redwallers' plans, she now had an idea of what they had in mind. Swike lifted her own wrist to smell the cloth. The scent of garlic had nearly completely faded.

She peered intently at Maren and Amber. After a little scrutiny, it became obvious to the rat that each mouse concealed a bulge underneath their clothing. _Valerian, _thought Swike. She took a deep breath, snout pointed toward the mice. If the flowers were truly there, she could not sense them.

Swike stared blankly at the goodbeasts a moment, locked in their whispered conversation. _If I could do one last thing… If there was one thing I wanted to do with my life…_ She knew the answer; she just had to admit it to herself. _I want to see the Redwallers free._ Swike didn't include herself. She didn't believe freedom existed for her any more. But that was no reason for her friends to suffer.

She crawled over to sit next to Maren. As one, the three maids turned to look at the rat. Swike took a deep breath. "How can I help?" she asked.

Tears standing in the corners of her eyes, Maren gave the rat a side-ways hug.

"I don't know," replied Gyis, in answer to Swike's question. "You tell us, Swike."

Swike returned Maren's hug. "How many times have we marched?"

"Twice," said Amber.

"For how long?" asked the rat. "Two full nights? Like a day's march each?"

"No," said Maren. "If you add them up, it would be like a full day's march, I guess."

"A little more," said Kris, entering the conversation. "Why Swike? Where are they taking us?"

All eyes and ears were on her now. "To the main army," she said. Swike could see fear in their eyes.

"The _main_ army?" Maren mouthed, what sound escaped her mouth came out as a squeak.

Not wishing to see their reaction to her next comment, Swike closed her eyes. "Fifteen hundred rats," she said. Silence. "Three days march, from where we began. That's what R-" Swike started to choke on his name. Shaking her head, she tried again. "What Riss said." She felt Maren's arms around her once more.

When she opened her eyes, Swike found a group of beasts, not distraught, but deep in thought. Though still resting on Ranton for support, Char had obviously taken on the role of leader. He surveyed them all seriously. "We'll have to act sooner than planned," he stated. Without batting an eye, showing his full trust in her allegiance, Char began to fill Swike in on the plan.

Four pikes surrounded the prisoners. Though their paws were bound separately, attached to each of their right footpaws was a long chain which could connect them in a line for the purpose of marching. It was each of these chains which had been secured in place by the pikes, two prisoners held to one pike each. It had taken the weight of three rats hanging on the pikes to drive them into the ground and the effort of twice as many rats to pull them up again. But the Redwallers had a tool which the vermin lacked. 

They had Ranton. The mole assured Swike that he could dig up all four of the pikes enough for the chains to be pulled free in very little time, especially if the other prisoners were willing to act as a distraction or even as a living shield. Since the chains had been detached from each other before being pinned under the pikes, each of the prisoners would be free from the others. They were to pick up their chain to keep it from trailing behind them, and run, grabbing a weapon in their flight if possible.

Kris and Gyis would take to the trees as soon as they were free, throwing pebbles they had collected thus far, in order to give cover to the beasts still on the ground. Ranton and Char were partners, not to be separated during their flight. Amber and Bryce were another pair. Swike agreed instantly to make her way with Maren, watching out for the mousemaid. Maren, Amber, and Ranton each had a stash of valerian, in case it was needed to get through tight groups of rats. All in all, the plan wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad either.

"What we need," said Gyis, "is for the rats to ignore us long enough that we feel it's safe for Ranton to start digging up those pikes. The attention paid to us today has been lax, but it has still been constant. Even now, two guards are watching us." The squirrel motioned toward the rats with a nod of her head. "I don't think they have any idea what we're talking about – they're having a conversation as well, and we can't hear what they're saying. But they're still watching, and neither of them are drinking."

"I don't think we'll be able to move before nightfall," said Char. "But it seems hopeful that there will be no march tonight. Under the cover of darkness, we must make our move. Until then, get what sleep you can."

The otter did not watch to see that his words were obeyed, but relaxed against Ranton and fell quickly into a nap. Most of the other goodbeasts found a soft patch of dirt and followed his example.

Swike did not feel tired. She had been in a daze ever since Riss had died, and now she felt as if she had finally woken up. She followed Maren and lay down next to the mouse, staring up at the noon sun until she had to close her eyes against the glare.

* * *

She might have dozed off, but she couldn't tell for sure. What brought her back to the present was Maren whispering in her ear.

"Swike, are you awake?"

"Mm-hmm," Swike hummed.

"I just wanted to check, I mean, to see how you're doing."

Swike's eyes snapped open. If she kept them closed, she knew she'd see Riss' dead body again. "I'm fine," said the rat quickly.

Pause. "I see."

Swike was about to close her eyes and try to fall asleep again when Maren continued. "You're not thinking of staying, are you?"

Swike turned on her side to face the mouse, head propped on her paw. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because, well, I don't know. I can't imagine Redwall without you any more. But, even though you're a prisoner now, I think your brother would let you go free, if you stayed with him."

"Do you really think I want that?"

"I, well, no." Maren looked sheepish. "So," she continued, "you're coming back to Redwall, right?"

Swike thought of the redstone abbey, full of cheery goodbeasts and good food. She thought of waking up in her old room and spending her days in peace and happiness. She imagined Riss next to her, enjoying life within the abbey as well. Tears came to her eyes as she admitted to herself that she had held this dream, secretly, for a long time, but would now have to give it up.

Maren, also crying, sat up and pulled the rat into her lap, holding her close. "I'll understand," she whispered, "if you can't stay with me."

Just then, lying in the mousemaid's lap, Swike remembered something she had forgotten a long time before. She remembered something Maren had asked her, back before the war, before Swike had grown so close to the mouse and so in love with Redwall Abbey.

Getting her tears under control, Swike sat up and faced her best friend. "You asked me once," she started, clearing her throat, "what job I wanted to have, in the abbey." Swike became thoughtful for a moment as Maren stared on in anticipation. "There are so many jobs for which I am not fit or which other beasts could do better. But there is something which nobeast is taking care of right now. Redwall does not have a Recorder. I can write and read and draw very well. I never got to read nearly as much as I wanted, but your gatehouse is full of stories from the past. I would like to read them, and then to share them with everybeast. And I would love to add to the stories. From what I saw," Swike looked down at her paws, which she was wringing nervously, "they were all about goodbeasts. There are some stories, about vermin, which I think might be worth recording and sharing."

Swike looked up nervously. Maren was smiling. "Of course there are," she said. "And I think you would make an amazing Recorder, Swike!

"Actually," she giggled slightly, "I still don't know what I want to do. With the war and then all of the clean-up efforts afterwards, it got pushed to the back of my mind. How did you get ahead of me?" she joked.

Swike giggled in return. "Who knows?" she replied, lying down. "But we should get some sleep now, while we can."

"Yes," Maren agreed. "Just think, Swike! In two days we'll be back inside Redwall!"

Swike did not reply. She had turned away from the mousemaid in order to hide the frown on her face. She could never say anything to distress her friend, but she knew that the likelihood of mishaps was still great and that it was not time for such blind optimism.

Still, as sleep claimed her, the rat dreamed of quills, parchment, and ink inside a dusty old room full of books.


	53. Pandemonium

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Fifty-three: Pandemonium**

Swike awoke instantly. The sun was setting, the sky colored in shades of pink and purple. Most of the other prisoners were also awake, but none of them were moving about. Kris and Ranton each looked sick to their stomachs. Amber kept tapping her left footpaw, fidgeting nervously, though never touching the spot where she was concealing valerian. Char was awake, but he sat with his eyes closed and his shoulders hunched. Swike couldn't tell if Bryce were awake or not, since he was facing away from her, but Gyis and Maren were obviously slumbering. Reaching out toward the mousemaid, Swike shook Maren slightly. The maid yawned innocently and began to stretch. As soon as the clink of her shackles met her ears though, she stopped moving and her eyes opened wide.

Swike frowned sadly at her friend. _For a moment, she forgot where she was. But she knows now._

Gyis woke up a while later. Acting unconcerned, she yawned and surveyed their surroundings. Swike had been careful to not look around for their guards; she was impressed with how nonchalantly Gyis was able to act the part of look-out. The squirrel stretched out her tail then, banishing the cramps sleep had left, and crawled over to sit next to Char. She began to check his bandages, showing genuine concern for the wounded otter. As she did so, they whispered back and forth so softly that Swike could not hear what they said.

The former spy couldn't help it. Curiosity drew her eyes away from her friends. Four rats watched the prisoners like hawks. Swike felt cold. Turning to look at Ranton, she found the mole curled up in a ball, a paw draped over his eyes.

As the sun sank further, one of the guards left and returned holding a torch. He stuck the torch into the ground to light up the space where the Redwallers sat. Maren moved closer to Swike and leaned against her. "I'm scared," Swike heard her whisper. Swike found the mouse's paw and squeezed it.

A shout was heard from out in the woods. Char opened his eyes, and everybeast, even the guards, turned to try and see what the commotion was about.

"—wall!"

Maren gasped, sitting up straight.

"Was that-?" Kris started to ask.

"Now," spoke Char softly. Swike wasn't sure she had heard him at first, but Ranton began digging furiously.

Very slowly, Swike stood up and began to stretch out her legs. She moved in front of the mole, hoping to block the guards' view of him. Three of the guards still seemed distracted by the shout they had heard earlier and weren't even looking at the Redwallers.

Chancing a glance in Ranton's direction, Swike was shocked. The mole and Gyis were each free. The squirrel sat next to a pike which was no longer in the ground. She held it up with the tip resting in the dirt, so that if the guards looked in her direction, nothing would seem suspicious or out of place. Ranton was next to Kris and Amber, each of whom held their chains, ready to tug them free. Even as Swike watched, Ranton freed them and moved on to the pike holding Bryce and Char. Swike and Maren were to be freed last.

"Hey!" one of the guards was now running in their direction.

"—iaa!" came a shout from the edges of the vermin camp. The rats came alive all over the camp in response to the cries.

All of the guards were on their feet now, brandishing swords. Gyis and Kris picked up the pikes they had been holding and pointed them toward their captors. Char was on his feet too, tugging at the pike that Ranton was working free of the earth.

The rats surged in among the prisoners and Gyis and Kris did their best to protect Ranton. Swike pushed Maren down next to their pike. She stood over the mouse, ready to protect her best friend.

And then Char and Bryce were free. Char charged the rats, seeming to forget his many injuries as he met their blades with the very pike that had, to this point, held him captive. Amber stood behind Bryce, who also swung a pike frantically back and forth. Swike hadn't seen Kris leave, but looking around for him now, she couldn't find him.

Ranton was running in her direction, and following him were two rats. Pebbles were raining down among them all, each stone missing its target.

"Redwall!" yelled Gyis, jumping between Ranton and the guards. Just then, a stone hit one of the rats on the head and he began swaying from side to side.

"Redwall!" Swike heard. She almost thought it had been Gyis' echo, but she knew that voice. It had been, not Gyis, but her brother Spyn.

Gyis had recognized her brother as well. Filled with a new energy, the young squirrel crouched to avoid the rats' swinging swords and swung her pike at their legs. The two rats intent upon killing Ranton each fell to the ground; the one who had been previously dazed by Kris' sling stone did not rise again. Char continued to keep the other two guards busy, shouting his war cry with every other breath.

As Ranton sent dirt flying in all directions at her back, Swike witnessed the otter stab one of the rats in the chest, forcing him down onto the ground. Grabbing up the fallen guard's sword, Char forced the other rat away from his friends, yelling fiercely. The rat took one look at the prisoners and his fellow guards, turned tail, and ran. Gyis managed to hit the remaining guard upside the head, dropped her pike, and darted up a nearby tree.

"Logalogaloglogalog!!"

There was no more denying it. A rescue party had followed after Swike and her friends and was now engaged in battle with the rats.

"Redwallll!!" screamed Char, running off into the heat of battle.

Maren thrust the chain attached to Swike's footpaw into her paw. "We're free!" she thrilled.

Breathing deeply, Ranton rocked back on his heels. The mole looked worn out from his powerful dig and was covered in dirt from head to footpaw. Glancing around, it took him only a moment to realize that Char was gone. Noticing his predicament, Swike picked up the pike lying between them and thrust it into the mole's paws. "Just run anyway," she ordered. "Run toward the shouts of 'Redwall!'" Then, taking hold of Maren's paw, Swike took her own advice.

Rats jumped to their paws on every front, grabbing for weapons and heading into battle. Swike kept her eyes open for a bow and arrows, but she wasn't sure she'd get lucky in finding one. Maren held her paw so tightly that Swike couldn't imagine being parted from the maid for a second. The shouts of battle still sounded all around, but nobeast was visible save the rats. All of a sudden, there appeared to be many more than three score and Swike found herself jumping and dodging all over the place, Maren trailing behind. They came close to death more times than she would have liked to admit.

"'Ello there, jolly good evenin' to you! What, what!" A hare stood right in front of Swike and Maren, swinging a staff over his head as if in a huge wave of hello. The staff succeeded in knocking two rats on their tails.

"W-what?" asked Swike, dumbfounded at seeing a hare at all.

"That there's th' spirit, ol' chap," the hare winked. He quickly thrust his staff blindly over his shoulder, disarming the rat who had been about to chop his ears off. He gave Swike and Maren a huge smile. "Y'must be Swike," he extended a paw toward the rat. "Nice t'meet you. Name's Tornsby!"

Swike numbly took the hare's paw, which he shook so vigorously that she dropped her chain. Kneeling down to pick it back up, she witnessed the hare ducking and weaving through the rats, clearing a pathway for the prisoners with a staff that seemed to be everywhere at once. And then he was gone.

"Where did _he_ come from?" asked Bryce.

"I don't-" Maren stopped abruptly. "Bryce, where's Amber?"

"Amber?" Bryce asked, looking behind him as if expecting the mouse to be standing right there.

"You weren't supposed to get separated from her!" chastised Maren.

"But, but. I wanted to be with you two."

"We haven't the time for this," said Swike quickly. Many of the rats around them were getting up, having been only momentarily stunned by Tornsby.

Just then, Swifcut and Raynat turned a corner and came sprinting in their direction. Maren screamed and jumped behind Swike who grabbed the pike from Bryce's paws and held it up in front of her, forcing her paws to remain steady. Swifcut's left arm was in a sling, but he still swung a deathly scimitar around, and Raynat, next to him, was not a rat Swike fancied crossing blades with.

"Help!" Bryce screamed, tripping over a fallen rat as he stumbled backwards.

"Redwaalllllll!"

"Logalogalogalooooooog!"

Lifil, Jennet, and three shrews crashed through between the campfires, coming straight at Swifcut and Raynat. The rat assassin descended upon one of the shrews, cloak enveloping her one second, her dead body dropping to the ground the next. Swike wasn't even sure what he had done to her. _We can't beat him!_

Then, as Lifil crossed blades with Swifcut, she remembered. "Maren! The valerian! Throw valerian at Raynat!" She felt the mouse fumbling for the valerian at her side. The next instant, the sweet scent was all around her. Swike's eyes went out of focus and she fell to the ground, delirious. She fought the sensation with all of her might. _How … did … she have … so much?_

The scent of wet grass filled her nostrils. Bryce held a clump of the grass to her snout, other arm wrapped around her stomach to keep her from Maren, whom she had been, unwillingly, grabbing for. Swike coughed roughly. Her eyes were watering. "Th-thank you Bryce."

"Here Skipper," yelled Maren, tossing the valerian toward the otter, who immediately turned on Raynat. _Skipper's here too,_ Swike thought, though she wasn't surprised.

And they were alone again. Swike pushed herself up with the pike, allowing Bryce to help her a little. She looked around for Swifcut, but she didn't see his body anywhere. Three rats and two shrews lay nearby though, and she had to wrench her eyes away.

Maren and Bryce both looked rattled, though, thankfully, unharmed. _I have to get them out of here!_ Swike began to look for any place that would be safe. In every direction, she could either hear or see the battle raging between goodbeasts and vermin. They were surrounded, and only momentarily overlooked.

"Come on," she ordered, running in a random direction; the two mice followed behind her without objection, straight into the midst of battle. Screaming, the short rat rammed straight into the nearest vermin. She swung her pike around from side to side, doing her best to keep her balance with the long weapon in her paws. Something nicked her right hip and she felt warm blood running down her leg. Bryce cried out in alarm.

"Eulaliiaaaa!" Three hares surrounded the wayward prisoners, punching, kicking, and disarming the rats around them, giving them some breathing room. Swike turned back to look at her friends. Maren looked pale, her face scrunched up in pain as she held her left shoulder.

Bryce had noticed Maren's predicament at the same moment that Swike did. He was quicker than she was, swiftly tearing off his own shirt and pressing it to the deep wound. "Hold it like so," he said calmly. "We need to stop the bleeding." Swike smiled briefly, leaning on her pike like a crutch. Her own blood was already mixing with the dirt at her feet. _He helped Maren before he helped me._ Somehow, even such a bizarre thought was comforting to her at the moment.

"Oh Swike!" called Maren. "You're bleeding too!" The mouse pointed at Swike's hip.

The rat shook her head. "I'll survive," she said, though she knew that her body couldn't take much more battering before she collapsed from the pain and exhaustion. _I'll just have to fight through the pain,_ she told herself sternly. _I'll keep fighting till I get Bryce and Maren to safety._ With this resolve alive in her heart, she turned back toward the direction that she believed the edge of the camp to be.

For the first time, she noticed that true night had fallen around her. Still, fires and torches burned all about, their flickering light leaving few things hidden. And directly in front of her, only about ten paces away, a familiar sight met her eyes.

As if only picking up their battle from the day before, Char and Swifcut clashed blades together. They were oblivious to the beasts surrounding them. Each of them seemed intent on sending their foe to the dark forest. Swike could no longer hear a single shout or scream or crash. Her entire focus became these two warriors, locked in battle. And again, she prayed for neither to die at the paw of the other.


	54. Love and Hate

**Part Four: Seizure**

**Chapter Fifty-four: Love and Hate**

Neither beast aware of Swike's hope for their safety, rat and otter threw caution to the wind in their duel. Seeking after Swifcut's constant weak spot, Char cut the warlord's sling. As the tattered and stained cloth fluttered to the ground, the rat screamed in pain and anger. His left arm dangling uselessly at his side, he charged the wounded otter, sending blow after blow at the goodbeast. Char began to falter under the jarring attacks, barely able to deflect the scimitar.

"Redwaalll!!" Martin's sword came down between the two beasts as Lifil leapt into the fray. Swike clung to her pike as if to a floating log, stranded in the middle of a raging sea. She was in anguish, yet unable to do a thing. Against the two young otters, Swifcut was being beaten back. Soon, he would make a mistake and find his end.

Suddenly, Maren had her arms around Swike, their blood and tears mixing together.

"Stop!" yelled Bryce, running toward the battle. "Can't you see what you're doing to her? Can't you see Swike's suffering?"

Lifil stepped back, letting Martin's sword drop. She seemed to take in everything at once: Swifcut fighting for his life, Char near death himself, Swike and Maren wounded and in tears, Bryce running in her direction, waving his arms. With the power and wisdom befitting an Abbey Champion, Lifil stepped once more between Char and Swifcut. She pushed her comrade roughly aside, getting him out of harm's way. A yell building up from her belly, she brought Martin's sword down and out, attempting to disarm her enemy. Swifcut fell back but maintained his grip on his weapon. Lifil continued to push the warlord back, though never moving in for the kill. Finally, they were gone from sight, Char leaning on Bryce and gasping for breath.

"What's this? Tired already, eh? Hope you're not about to give up." Tornsby, looking as calm as if he were simply taking a midnight stroll, appeared among them. The hare helped Char to stand up straight, all the while keeping two rats at bay who took that opportunity to charge.

Swike untangled herself from Maren, lifting her pike to fight on. With Tornsby's help, the four prisoners managed to cover some distance, but the edge of the camp seemed no nearer than it had been before the sun set.

"I can … still fight," gasped Char.

"Sure y'can," agreed Tornsby good-naturedly. "Jus' look out for y'friends, laddie buck. That's the important thing, by the blood'n'vinegar. What what!"

"Don't die, Char!" ordered Maren, tears still clouding her vision.

The otter took a deep breath, standing tall on his own strength. "For you, Maren, I'd do anything." He smiled through his pain, holding his sword level as he looked around for a new enemy. As if they had grown up fighting at each other's side, Tornsby and Char took a fighting stance, facing down the enemy. The rats who found themselves before the duo had picked the wrong battle.

Char and Tornsby never attacked the same rat at the same time or got in each other's way. Instead, they were able to play the battlefield as if it were nothing more than an elaborate dance. Before the jolly hare and the stern otter, the rats quaked. They made stupid mistakes which cost many of them their lives. The bodies of the vermin soon littered the area surrounded the two goodbeasts.

All the while, Swike stood just before Bryce and Maren, thinking of herself as the last line of defense for these beasts unaccustomed to battle. And hoping, just a little, to block their innocent gaze from such atrocities.

Through the fault of nobeast, a wide stretch of ground developed between Swike and the two warriors she wished to remain close to. By the time she realized, it was too late. Swike, Maren, and Bryce were stranded once again.

Walking with a limp, Swike began to push the two mice onward, toward the dream of safety. They were now wandering further from the many burning torches, and shadows surrounded them. Maren tripped over a body, lying in her way. Swike looked down into the still face of Naysta. The seer's eyes remained open, but no sight, whether real or supernatural, would ever register in her eyes again.

Swike felt empty. Where sadness and loss should have been, she felt nothing. Instead, she only remembered Naysta's cowardice and hoped that they were now near the edge of the camp. "Keep going," she said. "We'll be safe soon, just keep moving."

Turning her back on the field of battle, Swike kept her friends in sight and they ran. Time was playing tricks with her mind. Two steps, three steps, and yet an hour had passed. Her hip felt red hot, as if clothed in fire. Each step was anguish. Trees seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Swike knew she was about to trip over a tree root; she only waited to feel the sensation of falling.

And there it was. Falling, falling in slow motion. But even when she hit the ground, she wasn't prepared, and her entire body took a beating against the hard packed earth. _Where was the tree root? I don't actually remember tripping._

Maren and Bryce turned around, about to run back to Swike's aid. But they stopped. Swike could sense, more than see, their fear. She gripped the pike still held in her grasp. _Something is wrong. Wood. I feel wood. I should feel metal as well. But … my chain … when did I drop it?_

"Vy, Sswik?"

Swike turned over and began to stand up. Facing her and standing upon the chain still trailing from her right footpaw, was her brother Swifcut.

"Vy do yu vant to leeve ne?" He almost sounded sad and lost.

"I never wanted to leave you," said Swike, tugging on her chain even as she spoke, pain shooting through her wounded hip. "But you bring only unhappiness."

Bryce ran around Swike's back. Yelling, he threw himself at Swifcut, unarmed. "Let her go!"

"Bryce, no!" Swike took a step forward.

Not even bothering to use his sword, Swifcut threw out his arm at Bryce. One hit, and the mouse was thrown back. He slammed into a tree and slid down onto the ground. Maren screamed and ran over to Bryce's side.

"Swifcut!" Swike cried. "He's only a cook!" She took another step toward her brother, pike quivering in her grasp.

The sound of battle was growing louder, as if moving steadily in their direction, but Swike no longer cared about anything save these three beasts around her.

"Vat does dat madder, ven he iz in a baddle?"

"Because you dragged him into that battle! We were gathering herbs when you captured us, Swifcut. Bryce would have never been in the middle of a battle of his own choice. It's you, all you! You drag beasts into battles where they must fight for their lives. You'd do the same thing to me, if you could. You'd make me spy for you, though I detest it. And you know how much I hate it. That's why I can't join you, Swifcut. I won't stand by and watch you do exactly what Koron did. I won't let you hurt me or anybeast else. There's no reason for you to be that way!"

Swifcut's eyes blazed. "Dere iz no oder way. Fur varmin, dere iz no oder way!" He was breathing heavily, chest heaving. The warlord took a step toward his sister, walking along her chain, so as to keep her captive. "Dat means yu tu, Sswik. Yu are varmin tu!"

"That's not true," shrilled Maren, still crouched next to Bryce, who lay dazed at the foot of the tree. "Swike has never been a vermin, ever! And no matter what you do, you can never have her. You can never make her into something she isn't, into something she hates."

"Shut up!" yelled Swifcut, the veins on his scarred throat standing out.

Swike took that moment to throw up the pike between them, trying to at least knock her brother over. With a roar, Swifcut swung out his sword, chopping the pike in two. Startled, Swike dropped the half of the pike which had been left in her paws.

Swifcut charged his sister then, screaming. "Ib I can't haf yu," he plunged his scimitar into Swike's stomach, "den nobeatz can!" and he forced the blade to run clear through her, all the way up to the hilt.

At first, Swike felt nothing, only shock. She took hold of the bloody hilt with her right paw, grabbing Swifcut's right paw with her left one. And then the pain hit her. Like a tidal wave, it engulfed her and she fell to her knees, dragging Swifcut down with her. Her mouth hung agape and she choked up spittle and blood.

She thought she heard somebeast screaming her name, but she couldn't tell. Lights were swimming before her eyes as the seconds ticked by. Swifcut's face came into focus, looking into her own. She saw horror within his eyes, and her heart reached out to him.

_I always loved you, Swifcut,_ she thought, forgiving him. But no strength was left to her to say a word, and her world fell into cold and darkness.

* * *

The pain was gone. Even the chill had disappeared. Swike blinked. It was light again. She didn't know how she had survived, how she was still alive. Swike looked down at her stomach, expecting to see a clean bandage stretched across it. But there was nothing. No bandage, no blood, not even a scar. Instinctively, Swike reached up to touch the left side of her face. Her ear was there, whole again.

_I'm dead,_ she thought, but the thought was not a terribly upsetting one.

Without knowing why, Swike began to walk. She looked ahead, to see what lay in the distance. A forest was straight ahead. The trees looked ancient and their foliage was thick, but beneath them she saw no shadows.

As she neared the forest, she spied a gate, standing open, right on the edge of the trees. Laughing for no reason, Swike began to jog toward the gate. Somebeast was standing just inside, waiting for her. She couldn't see who it was yet, but she knew it was a friend, and she accelerated into a sprint. She was able to run much faster than she ever had before, and her body did not tire. Giggles bubbled out of her mouth as she ran even faster. Before long, she was through the gate. With a shout of joy, Swike jumped up into Riss' waiting arms. He caught her and let her momentum spin them each in a circle.

A huge smile on his face, the tall rat set Swike down, kissing her on the top of the head, right between her two perfect ears. "Welcome home," he said.

Then taking her by the paw, Riss led Swike deep into the Dark Forest.

* * *

"_Swike!!" Maren and Bryce cried with one voice as Swifcut's scimitar grew out of Swike's backside, covered in her blood. Though still disoriented, Bryce pulled himself up onto his feet. Maren stayed where she was, too horrified to move._

_Lifil heard them. She had lost track of Swifcut when four rats attacked her at once, but she had seen him running in this direction. From the sound of the shouts, she had run out too far, and the otter quickly doubled back._

_The scene she came upon was unbelievable, unforgivable. Swike knelt, cold in death, with Swifcut's scimitar protruding from her back. Lifil began to run, lifting Martin's sword over her head, gripping the hilt with both paws._

_Swifcut saw her coming. He leaned back, trying to free himself from Swike. But her death grip upon his right paw would not be broken, and his left arm still hung at his side. He screamed in fear, eyes growing wide, as he realized that there would be no escape this time._

_Tears coursing down her face, the Abbey Champion let a battle cry ring from her mouth. But it wasn't the customary "Redwall." In her grief, Lifil found herself yelling "For Swike!!"_

_She drove her sword into Swifcut's chest, pushing down on it with the weight of her body until the blade went all the way through and the tip touched the ground beneath his arched back. The rat's head fell back, eyes still wide with fright, but throat quiet without giving forth one last shout or plea. His body soon became as cold as that of Swike's, and Lifil crouched next to both of them, mourning their loss and a sibling's love turned murderous and ugly._

_Thus Lord Swifcut fell at the paws of Lifil, the Abbey Champion, still in the grasp of his beloved sister, Swike._

* * *

A/N: Before you ask, yes, this was the last chapter. Yet, there is still an epilogue to come. You can expect my final update later this week.


	55. Epilogue

**Swike's Story**

**Epilogue**

_Maren sat in the gatehouse, rereading the ending of the book lying in her lap, paws stained black with ink. The slightest smile touched the corners of her eyes as she read._

Of the eight captives who ventured out into Mossflower Woods that fateful day, gathering herbs, seven returned. Ranton and Amber had been the lucky ones. They ran into each other shortly after the scuffle with their guards, and they stuck together. Both armed with valerian, they remained unscathed throughout the entire night and suffered only exhaustion and hunger, soon mended when they made it back to Redwall. Kris and Gyis joined together with the other squirrels in the trees and gave good cover to the GUOSIM and many other Redwallers on the ground. The reunited siblings, Gyis and Spyn, were an unstoppable team and, to this day, remain an unbeatable duo in many team competitions during the festivals often held within Redwall. Char, though severely wounded, walked on his own two footpaws the whole way back to Redwall, where his best friend Ronn soon put him to rights. Maren and Bryce, of course, were rattled, both physically and emotionally, by the trials they endured, but the experience was a growing one for each of them.

But something must be said of the goings-on of the rescue party, since their timely appearance, and their numbers and make-up, came as quite a surprise to all of the captives. It so happens that a party of five hares walked up the road to Redwall the afternoon that the eight captives set out and, hearing of the preparations being made for a feast, decided that a halt was in order. Tornsby was their leader. They were, by right and name, Salamandastron hares, though it had been nearly nine seasons since they had been inside the mountain, and Redwall was to be a resting point before they made the long (and long-anticipated) trek home.

By nightfall, the captives' absence became a subject of high importance and a small search party, consisting of Log-a-Log and Tornsby, among others, made their way into Mossflower Woods. It was nearly four o'clock in the morning when they returned with the sad news that their friends had been captured by rats and taken away. Spyn would have run out of Redwall then and there, without a weapon or a plan, in pursuit of his sister. But other wiser (and cool-headed) individuals denied him that opportunity. It was the next morning, at dawn, that a force of four and a half score (enough to outnumber the rats three to two) marched out into Mossflower Woods. By nightfall, they had reached and passed the vermin's first camp, where Swifcut and Char had fought earlier that very day. It puzzled them to find one body left in the camp, a rat whom many would have recognized instantly as Riss. They left his body undisturbed, only to learn of his fate and identity later.

By noon of the next day, they had already found the rats. They could have attacked then (many rats were more than out of commission with drunkenness), but they decided to wait for nightfall, believing that the prisoners may have a plan of their own, and liking the advantage that night, in the middle of the woods, would give these woodland creatures over the vermin.

So, as the sun set, they made their move simultaneously from north, south, and west. Many lives were lost and many more beasts went home with battle scars. To tell of that battle, which raged throughout the night and quieted, with the Redwallers' triumphant, as the sun rose the next morning, would take up the pages of its own book. But, regarding this story, a few highlights are worthy of mention.

Spyn spied Swike fleeing between the rats at one point during the battle. Seeing the shackles on the former spy, he dropped his grudge with her, never to pick it up again. To this day, he is a strong defender of giving vermin second chances and forgiving past wrongs. He is now the Recorder within Redwall and does the job justice, keeping Swike's spirit and passion ever alive.

After being separated from Swike, Maren, and Bryce, Char and Tornsby went on to fight many rats throughout the long night. The next day, under the otter's command, a group of beasts still fit for battle marched eastward to deal with the remaining rat army. Many protested Char's involvement in this venture, but while standing next to Tornsby, the otter appeared to have tapped into a new, deeper energy within himself. Through trickery and deception, the small group of goodbeasts was able to convince the horde of rats that Redwall itself was chasing after them, and even without Lord Swifcut at their head, they ran for the hills. They have not been seen since.

Besides Lifil, the other epic battle must belong to none other than her father, Skipper. Those beasts who witnessed his duel with Raynat, the assassin, say they will never forget it. The number of poisons, weapons, and tricks that that twisted rat had concealed under his cloak and behind his eyes were too many to number. But Skipper was a captain of a special kind, whose equal few beasts are blessed with the opportunity to know in their lifetime. For five hours, those two beasts fought each other, tooth and claw, blade and cunning, speed and strength. Many a time, the clump of valerian Maren threw to Skipper in a spur of the moment saved his life. But the trials of such a long and cruel battle can hardly be endured by anybeast. It is a bitter sweet ending, true, but neither beast came out as the victor. One of Raynat's poisons, in the form of a powder which the otter, sadly, inhaled, put an end to Skipper. But it was Skipper's own sword which inflicted many a wound upon the rat, leaving the assassin to bleed to death before the end. Lifil carried her father back to Redwall, where he was buried with honor, alongside the other fallen warriors, and Char was made, by unanimous vote, the new Skipper. He has quite a legacy to live up to, but he is already well on his way.

Swike was, of course, one of the many honored dead. After a suggestion of Bryce's, Riss was also found and brought back to Redwall. The two rats now lie together in a grave behind the gatehouse, where, before this battle, none other than Recorders have ever been buried. Their gravestone reads "Here lies Swike and Riss, friends of Redwall. May they find the happiness in the afterlife that was denied them in their time on earth." It is our belief that they have. Their gravestone does not say that they were rats, but that fact will never be forgotten, and when dibbuns ask about our friends, Swike and Riss, we sure have a story to tell them!

_Maren smiled as she reread the last sentence. She felt certain that Swike could have worded it better, but she didn't think it was all that bad either. With a light heart, Maren closed the book. She passed her paw across the cover, admiring it, not for the first time._

_The book was bound in snake skin. Skin of the very same snake that killed the dibbun Shelby so very long ago, and which Lifil slew, after the war was finally over. Burnt onto the green scales were the words "Swike's Story."_

"_And a very good story it is," Maren whispered to herself. "One worthy of being told within these walls for every generation hereafter."_

_The mouse sighed heavily, holding back the tears that she felt welling up in her eyes. Instead of crying, she busied her paws. She collected her quills and spare parchment and she stoppered the ink well at her side. But with every spare moment, she reached over to stroke the cover of the book once more._

_As she finished cleaning up, a knock sounded at the door. She turned to see who it was as the door inched open and a face peeked inside._

"_Is the Abbess in here?" asked the mouse with a joking air._

"_Oh Bryce!" cried Maren in exasperation. "Why must you always tease me?" She stood up and began to straighten out her skirts. "You can see very well that the Abbess is in here, and you also know well enough that you are the one beast I would never have call me by a title."_

_Bryce rushed inside the gatehouse, pulling the maid into a tight embrace as he made hushing sounds to her. "I know, I know," he whispered before planting a kiss on her cheek. "No need to get upset now. But I really should stop, and I know that. You've only been Abbess a season."_

_Maren's shoulders slumped. "And I still miss Abbess Pojam," she remarked sadly. "She was the only Abbess I ever knew; she welcomed me into the abbey as a dibbun and made sure I had all the love a beast could ever want."_

_Bryce stepped back from her, holding her paws. "But you'll do the same," he said. "For many beasts to come." He smiled encouragingly at her and she smiled back. Suddenly, Bryce started, dropping Maren's paws and throwing his own up in the air. "I almost forgot what I came here for! Didn't you hear Bren on the bells not too long ago? It's teatime, and you know very well that we can't serve a thing until the Abbess arrives."_

_Maren blushed. "Really? No, I'm afraid I didn't hear the bells. I guess I don't hear much of anything when I'm writing."_

_Bryce looked past Maren and to the book lying on the table. "I see," he said. "Are you almost done?"_

"_Almost? No, I'm finished. I finished just now."_

"_Oh, that's wonderful Maren!" Bryce gazed at the book with longing. "When can I read it?"_

"_Well not right this minute," said the Abbess, picking up the book and placing it on a shelf. "Not if we're delaying teatime! But, soon."_

"_Soon," repeated Bryce, taking Maren's arm as he escorted her out into the sunshine. "Soon sounds good."_

_The two mice began to walk toward the abbey building, discussing the many delicacies sitting on the table waiting for them in the Great Hall, and laughing happily in each other's company._

_Back in the gatehouse, a new book nestled into its very own spot on the bookshelf. This book was written, not about a journey or a war or a champion or a friendship. It was a book, instead, about a rat, her trials and tribulations, and her spirit and resolve to be remembered, not as a vermin, but as a goodbeast. It was a book quite unlike its neighbors, but no less important, and no less note-worthy. It was Swike's Story._

* * *

A/N: First of all, I would like to extend my thanks to all of my readers. It's been 3 years and 7 months in the making, but you've stuck with me till the end. I am deeply honored. I hope you enjoyed reading _Swike's Story_ as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I know, and have known for a long time, that this ending will not sit well with many of you though. In way of explanation, I must draw attention to the fact that this story was told, strictly, from Swike's point of view. In her eyes and experience, her brother was kind, loving, protective, and precious. But one person's perception does not make another person what they are. From the beginning, Swifcut has been the antagonist of the story. He has always been evil and has always held an obsessive love for two things: power and Swike. Note that his love was _obsessive_. He killed to get into power, and when he discovered that he couldn't have Swike by his side, he could let no one else have her, and so he killed her as well. When Martin chose Lifil, he chose her to defeat Swifcut, not Koron. And she performed admirably, as befits an Abbey Champion.

But Swike's life and death were not in vain. Her presence in Redwall had a great impact on the featured youth: Maren, Lifil, Bryce, Spyn, Gyis, Jennet, Char, Ronn, Lanton, Ranton, Kris. Their lives will never be the same again, but the next generation, which they will raise, may come to be wiser, kinder, and more tolerant, leading to a brighter future for Redwall Abbey.

My main goal, with this story, was to take the world of Redwall, which Brian Jacques so often populates with black and white, with pure evil and pure good, and to throw in a myriad shades of gray. I hope that I succeeded in keeping you guessing the true alliances of at least one character throughout this story. If not, then at least I tried. Thank you again for reading!


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